


little wonders

by kiaronna



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I think I'm done adding to this pls don't hate me for posting all this bye, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 86
Words: 45,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiaronna/pseuds/kiaronna
Summary: A series of Yuuri on Ice ficlets, moved over from my Tumblr.





	1. burning low

**Author's Note:**

> A series of Yuuri on Ice ficlets, moved over from my Tumblr. For those who've followed me on there, this isn't new, but it's now nicely packaged.

“You’re not going to believe me,” Yuuri insists.

“No piece of dog related information can be kept from me, Yuuri.”

Yuuri huffs, buries his face in Makkachin’s fur. They’re lying on Viktor’s bed, atop plush sheets, the hum of Euro pop soft in the background. Yuuri’s wearing ratty sweatpants and a T-shirt, dotted with the occasional curl of Makkachin’s hair. Viktor can’t look away. Their fingers are laced over the poodle’s plump belly, something that keeps happening, ever since the Cup of China. There are two periods in Viktor’s life: B.C., Before China, and after. Viktor loves the after.

“Vicchan was a stray,” Yuuri mumbles.

Viktor tries not to laugh. “Oh, love, I know there were posters in your room with my face on them– you can say you bought Vicchan.”

“ _Viktor_ ,” Yuuri whines, burying his face into Makkachin. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Okay, okay,” Viktor chuckles. “So Vicchan was a stray.” He wiggles over the top of Makkachin, presses a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead.

“Yeah,” Yuuri breathes, soft. “When I found him and brought him back to the onsen, soaked in muddy puddle water and curls all matted, I thought he was some kind of gift from god. A poodle all my own. So I could be just like you.”

“Clearly, your parents agreed.” The brown eyes flicker up to him, twinkling.

“No,” Yuuri admits. “They told me Vicchan probably belonged to someone else. That we had to put up signs saying we’d found him.” He snorts gently through his nose. “…I sobbed for hours.” Makkachin snuffles, licks Yuuri’s cheek. “I plucked up Vicchan and locked myself in my room–my parents had to talk me down through the door. They told me they knew I loved Vicchan, but that maybe there was some other little boy out there missing him, loving him.”

“And you,” Viktor says, “my softhearted Yuuri, you were willing to give him back.”

Yuuri presses his lips together. Amused. “No,” he contradicts again, quietly. “That didn’t work. After all, who could love Vicchan more than me? I refused to put up the Found Dog signs up because of that.” There’s a pause, and Viktor fills in the gap. _Until_. “Then, they told me that Vicchan could be missing the place where he belonged.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor says. Maybe they shouldn’t discuss Yuuri’s dog– sometimes when he looks at Makkachin, the cinnamon eyes still glaze over.

“How could I take Vicchan away from what he loved? So we put up signs,” Yuuri finishes, smile small. “I was ready to give him up. Ready, even if it broke my heart.” Their fingers tighten across Makkachin’s belly, and it’s natural to lean forward and kiss him, all ruffled hair and round cheeks, gentle eyes. Viktor’s Yuuri. Viktor’s everything.

“Let’s end this,” Yuuri says, in Barcelona. The man who is his everything, and he wants to end it.

_You don’t have to break your heart_ , Viktor thinks. _Oh, you don’t have to break your heart_. 


	2. emergencies

There are things you learn from being Viktor Nikiforov’s coach, things that no other student will teach you.

“This is _an emergency_!” A sixteen-year-old Viktor screeches into his ear when Yakov picks up the phone.

“Vitya,” Yakov says, old heart speeding up. “Vitya, are you okay? Was there an accident? Who died?”

“An _accident_ , this is a disaster, Yakov! I told them _exactly_ what to do with my program outfit and they didn’t listen. They screwed up the lace, Yakov, don’t they understand what that’s supposed to represent–”

“Vitya,” Yakov says, “It is 3am in the morning. I am going back to bed.”

By the time Viktor is nineteen, Yakov is an expert in handling Viktor Nikiforov’s “emergencies.” Emergencies that, somehow, he believes only his coach capable of handling.

“Help, it’s an emergency,” Viktor whispers into the phone at eighteen. “Stephane Lambiel is so hot, Yakov, and his program this year–”

Yakov. Is. Done. When Viktor bursts into the rink at twenty, tears glistening in his beautiful blue eyes, dragging a hundred pound Makkachin with him, Yakov does not even blink. “YAKOV IT’S AN EMERGENCY, SHE IS BLEEDING YAKOV–”

“You clipped her nails too short, you fool, we’ll wrap it up and she’ll be fine.”

When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-four, has two perfect seasons under his belt, the emergencies slow. Yakov does not miss them. He assumes his skater is finally growing up.

When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-six, Yakov finds him sleeping on a rink bench. When he’s not skating he stares off, almost blank. When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-six Yakov swings by his apartment to drop off his skating bag because he forgot it at the rink, again, and he finds Viktor crying, sitting straight up on his couch, TV off. When he talks to him, he realizes Viktor wasn’t even aware of the tears.

“Viktor,” he says, as gently as his face and voice can allow, “is this an emergency? How can I help you?”

“It’s fine,” Viktor says. “I’m fine.”

So often, when Viktor speaks, Yakov does not believe him. 

Things change, at the rink. Yakov tries to make sure they do. Things get a little better. There are no emergencies.

Yakov is resting on a chair in the corner at the banquet of the Sochi GPF, exhausted by small talk and schmoozing with sponsors. He is ready to go to bed. 

Then a twenty-seven year old Viktor Nikiforov is sprinting towards him, Armani jacket practically ripped open, blue eyes alight.

“YAKOV, IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

_Here he comes_ , Yakov thinks. _Here we go_. 


	3. birthdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @thehobbem, who has a birthday and deserves a ficlet and a million dollars !!

“Ah, we can’t tonight,” Yuuri says, looking apologetic. “We have reservations for a night out. Another time, Yurio.”

“Why?” Scowling, he flicks ice from his skate in the direction of the men’s power couple. “It’s not biweekly date night-” which Viktor and Yuuri do have, twice a week “–and it’s not either of your birthdays, or your anniversary.” If asked, Yurio would snarl that he cares about none of those dates. Evidence shows otherwise.

“Well,” Yuuri replies, “it’s Makkachin’s birthday.”

Yurio gives up, and goes to ask Mila about her evening instead. (He does bring a bag of dog treats to practice the next day, though.)

Does Makkachin know it’s her birthday? Yuuri thinks Viktor’s dog is an empathetic and precious creature, able to understand every little thing about her favorite humans. This, of course, is probably beyond her grasp. It doesn’t matter, because they walk through Saint Petersburg to the fanciest restaurant that allows dogs, and cuddle together at a table. Around Makkachin’s neck is the silk bow tie Yuuri has bought her, in her teeth the restaurant’s “puppy platter.” At home she has three presents waiting: a bandanna with Viktor’s favorite cartoon character, fancy pooper-scooper bags for walks in the park, and a collage of every picture of her Yuuri has been able to find.

“Happy birthday,” Yuuri says, looking at Viktor, and then reaches down to smother Makkachin’s head in kisses. Viktor smiles, not a heartshaped one but one that curls, insistent and delighted and shy, around his lightly flushed cheeks.

Viktor’s birthday. Christmas. They’ve spent the last two with Viktor buying Yuuri extravagant presents, or curled up in bed if they’re not at a competition. For their years together, Yuuri hasn’t yet probed why Viktor tries so wholeheartedly to treat his birthday like nothing special. Like a day solely for Christmas, rather than one that means so much more. To both of them.

“Let’s walk the beach, later? Makkachin likes that.” So does Viktor.

“Okay,” Viktor hums, beaming at him, and the rest of their dinner is spent swapping skating stories, ushering Makkachin beneath the table so they weave their legs around her, one being made out of three.

“I hope Makkachin is having the best birthday,” Yuuri murmurs, and links his fingers with Viktor’s atop the tablecloth. Looking down, a quiet light in his eyes, Viktor laughs.

“She is,” Viktor says happily. “The best birthday, Yuuri, and it’s all because of you.”


	4. Who's Got the Smarts?

Viktor Nikiforov has lived his international life getting ferried places by Yakov, exploring with world-savvy Christophe Giacometti, and being led around on the arm of rich sponsors who wanted to take him out for a night.

Yuuri, on the other hand, has spent several years in Detroit– not quite the crime capital of the USA, but close.

This shows when the Katsuki-Nikiforovs start taking more vacations.

In Rio de Janeiro. “Why can’t we just take a shortcut?” Viktor asks, peering down a narrow and dark alley. “We’d make it back to the hotel faster.”

“Vitya, no,” says Yuuri. 

In Chicago. “Yuuri, that was such a nice man, and his dog was the _best_ dog, besides Makkachin.”

“Good dog,” Yuuri says, grabbing Viktor by the lapels to pull him in for a kiss, and to tap his cheek with Viktor’s leather wallet. “Terrible pickpocket. Don’t worry, I got it back for you.”

It even shows when they’re traveling close to home.

“This is my favorite restaurant in Sochi!” Viktor chirps. “Their shades are closed, so paparazzi can’t see in. They’re all fans, and always ask me about skating, but they never bother me for pictures with them! So discreet! It’s like my own little escape, so I wanted to share it with you. Do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful,” says Yuuri through gritted teeth. He grips Viktor’s hand tightly throughout the entire experience, and every time Viktor pitifully tries to ask, “how is the borchst?” Yuuri just smiles grimly at him and scoots closer.

“Darling,” Viktor pouts once they’re back in their hotel room, “I’ve told you that if you’re anxious we can always leave, but you never gave me the signal we agreed on–”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, and sits him down. “Vitya, that restaurant is _very clearly_ a cover for the Russian mafia.”

“Oh,” says Viktor. “Um.”

“I’ve always thought it was a miracle that you were alive,” Yuuri sighs and snuggles down into his husband’s lap. “Now I’m realizing just how much of a miracle it is.”

In London. They go out for a pub trivia night with Yakov and Yurio. Their team– carried completely by the living legend– destroys the rest, even though Viktor is tipsy and has been chattering with both the French family at the neighboring table and two Germans at the bar in their native tongue. Facts? Viktor knows them all: 18th century literature. Obscure historical references. Chemical compositions. The exact words Beyonce tweeted 3 months ago.

“What the hell,” says Yurio. “This idiot introduced himself to me five times when I first came to the rink. He can’t remember what he ate for lunch. What. The hell.” 

“I think I love him,” Yuuri blurts. They have been married for two years, and his husband is showing the Germans his belly-button. “We have to protect him.” Yakov just smirks.

“He’s all yours, son.”


	5. it's a small world after all

“Yuuri,” Viktor says. It’s one of those quieter evenings– cuddled up in the onsen’s public area, TV humming low in the background while Toshiya absently wipes at plates and bowls. Hiroko had fixed Viktor’s favorite dinner, what Viktor considers a small reward for bringing Yuuri back home after the skating season was over. The greatest reward is her gentle hand on his shoulder, Toshiya’s calm smile in his direction, Yuuri as comfortable and safe as he’ll ever be.

“Mm hmm,” says Yuuri.

“Would you like… to meet my parents?”

Yuuri jerks up, his knees smacking into the bottom of the table. “I didn’t know you– _okay_ , Viktor! Yes, of course I do. When we go back to Saint Petersburg?” Viktor shakes his head.

“They travel– haven’t been in Russia for years, actually. They’re a few hours away in Tokyo at the moment, so I thought…” Yuuri runs a frazzled hand through his hair, bobs his head up and down. Hiroko, however, is the next to speak.

“Of course, invite them to meet us. We’ll prove the Katsukis worthy of merging with the Nikiforovs.”

The phone call is made. A room is cleared. Yuuri takes on and off his glasses, alternates between kissing Viktor’s cheek and adjusting their shared room. “They’ll love you,” Viktor says firmly. “As I do. I’ve told them about you, my Yuuri.”

As it turns out, none of that matters. The Nikiforov parents come in with a sprinkling of rain, closing up their sleek umbrellas. Viktor’s mother is platinum blonde, with grass green eyes and a sharp gaze. Yuuri takes in a deep breath, begins to stride forward–

“Ekaterina!” Hiroko exclaims. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you had any idea where I was–”

“Hiroko! What timing, I’m here to visit my future in-laws, I had no idea you lived in _this_ Hasetsu–”

“No,” says Yuuri. “No, no. That’s not possible.”

“Yuuri,” says Hiroko, “come meet my best friend, Ekaterina Vasiliev, from boarding school.”

“Ah,” says Ekaterina, “it’s Nikiforov, now. And did you say… Yuuri?”

The modern world is very, very small. The modern world is incredible, too.

“You know,” Ekaterina reveals, because like Viktor, every word that falls from her mouth seems to induce an increased heart-rate. “Hiroko and I always wanted our children to marry.”

Apparently, Viktor and Yuuri were promised to each other ten years before they were even born.


	6. When the world ends - who is in your last thoughts then?

No one knows how, or why the human race deserved it, but anyone that fell asleep on February 1st, between the hours of 8pm and 8am in Detroit time never, ever woke up.

It’s difficult, because they still walk around. Sleepwalking, talking, navigating the dream space in their mind. Some people sleep with their eyes open– Yuuri hates those the most, because hope always flares to life in him, ugly and wishing for companionship. For all the zombie games he played, perhaps he’d been more prepared for that kind of apocalypse. Guns and blood and survival.

This? This is slower, quieter. Losing your will, and inspiration, and drive to fight.

Yuuri’s not going to let himself go down easy. He’d made a goal, a month after the apocalypse came and stayed. Yuuri would skate at every rink he could find, in every city.

This rink is large– he remembers a skate show here, a few years back. It’s easy to slip on his skategear, avoid the sleeper that’s doing dreamy, repeated figure eights on the end of the rink. He skates, and he thinks of Viktor Nikiforov. The sleeping spell seemed to travel with the sun– different the world over, from the few reports he’s heard through the internet. Insomniacs and travelers switching time zones; gangs of teenagers and college students, up all night at sleepovers and parties. This is the human race now. There’s so few of them in Detroit.

He wonders if Viktor fell asleep in St. Petersburg– if he still sleepwalks to the rink. If he can perform quads in his sleep, like Yuuri had always suspected he could. If his silver hair still falls in the perfect fringe, or whether he was doing some haircare routine– Yuuri still remembers the Instagram videos– and walking around with it in a treatment hat. The thought makes Yuuri laugh.

He almost never laughs, anymore. That’s why, when he launches into a quadruple toe loop and lands it, twisting fluidly into his next sequence, the laughter startles him.

It’s not his laughter. Suddenly someone is streaking across the ice– oh, and Yuuri’s ready to run, some of the sleepers are terrifying even if there’s no evil intent– and they’re _laughing_.

“I thought you were a sleeper but they couldn’t land a quadruple like that, _oh_ , and also– was that my–”

“You’re supposed to be in Russia!” Yuuri shrieks. Sometimes he thinks this situation is one long nightmare, a dream he’ll wake from. Viktor Nikiforov showing up, fully conscious, at a rink in the USA basically confirms that theory.

“I flew over last minute to film a commercial,” Viktor explains. By this time, he’s circling in excited, beautiful rings around Yuuri’s periphery. Yuuri feels dizzy. “I stayed here and I didn’t know what to do but skate, and no one wakes up–” he points at the sleeper, now “–that’s my friend, I help him during the occasional fall, and–” he pauses, stares for a solid minute while Yuuri grows increasingly frazzled. “Wait. I know you. Your hair’s longer, but you’re the Japanese representative.”

He wasn’t supposed to know Yuuri until Yuuri _possibly_ , maybe, hopefully (probably couldn’t have) made it to the podium with him in Sochi. Yuuri stares at him, wide-eyed, until Viktor carefully reaches out and shakes his hand.

“I’m awake because of a panic attack followed by three hours of ice time and two hours of Halo,” Yuuri says. He follows this, the first sentence he’s said to another conscious human in a few weeks, by launching himself into Viktor’s arms.

Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. 

But it’s already done, and Viktor is squeezing him back. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he whispers. “I was so lonely. I didn’t know what to do.” Yuuri thinks, at first, that perhaps he’s the one to have said the words. But it was _Viktor_.

“Come with me,” Yuuri says, “I’m visiting every ice rink in the USA. Then Canada. South America.” This is stupid. It’s not like it will wake anyone up, or get him a plane to see if his family is okay. 

“ _Yes_ ,” is Viktor’s emphatic reply, “yes, Yuuri, yes. Thank you.” His grip on Yuuri is so firm. So warm.

Maybe he’s awake after all.


	7. tricks and treats

“Vitya,” Yuuri calls from the bedroom, which Viktor is never, ever going to handle with grace. Luckily, he’s only put on lipstick from his stage makeup kit. Viktor can finish his costume later. Right now, there are more important things, like–

Viktor curses in three languages, before randomly landing on French and spluttering out, “ _darling, you’ll be the death of me!”_

“Rude,” Yuuri admonishes, because of all the languages they share, French isn’t yet one of them. The serious, scolding expression on his face melts away all too quickly to teasing. “Did you think I wouldn’t find it in our closet?”

“Well,” says Viktor, gaze everywhere at once. “There… wasn’t a lot of fabric to find?”

Yuuri hums in agreement, runs a thumb down one naked side, hypnotic even in motions as small as this. “You can’t hide anything from me.” This is true. “A sexy pirate costume, really, Vitya. I barely squeezed into this daring little get-up.”

“Yes,” says Viktor, and is not dignified enough to hide his whimper.

“I thought we were going in matching poodle onesies.”

“We… were.”

“Until you saw this online and couldn’t resist,” Yuuri murmurs, stepping in closer, lashes low, “until you thought we’d have our own costume party here at home after we stop by Yurio’s–”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Viktor is saying, nodding frantically, “I love your _mind_ , solnyshko, you’re brilliant, you–”

The seductive approach slows, Yuuri cocking his head along with his hip. The fake leather, frills, and buckles of the pirate dress cling handsomely. “What, you’re shy now? You bought…” Then, Makkachin skitters into the room. 

Atop her fuzzy little head rests her custom pirate captain hat, which Viktor had already wrestled onto her minutes earlier.

A long pause follows. Puppy panting does not make it any less awkward.

“This,” Yuuri says flatly. “Is Makkachin’s costume, isn’t it.”

“Surprise?”

It takes coaxing and some pleading and a lot of reassurance, but Viktor still gets to strip his fiance.

He swears Yuuri wore it better… but Makkachin is the one who wins the costume competition that night.

“Custom-made, and so cute,” Mila praises. “But it’s a little loose on her, like it’s stretched out? And why is Viktor’s lipstick… on the shoulder…”

“I wish I were _dead_ ,” says Yuuri, and Georgi, who is dressed as a vengeful ghost, just moans along with him.


	8. the real deal

I’ve seen the idea floated around that YOI’s storytelling format is like that of a biography or memoir– Yuuri and Viktor reveal important moments in their relationship, but also maintain privacy and gloss over some things.

So. *smacks hand on table* I need clips at the end of each episode that are narrated by Mari and Yakov. It will be called THE REAL DEAL

It will always start out with a slow pan from the end of the episode, transporting us from the beauty of YOI to a careful narration by Katsuki Yuuri himself.

“And finally, we broke apart from our reunion hug at the airport and went home to sleep,” Yuuri sighs. At his side, Viktor beams and snuggles closer on the interviewing couch. Their interviewer is already planning a tasteful fading out. There’ll be snowflakes. It’ll be touching.

Then they pan over to where Yakov and Mari are sitting. Neither of them seem particularly teary. Mari mutters something in Japanese, Yakov something in Russian. Translation might have been a problem, if they weren’t uttering the same thing. It flutters across the bottom of the screen:

_BULLSHIT_

“They got home at midnight,” Mari deadpans. “Yuuri’s flight landed at 5pm. Doesn’t anyone wonder what they got up to? Because according to poor Mrs. Hoshi at the drugstore–”

The video feed blips for a second (THE SHOW’S RATING IS PG-13), and then Yakov is talking. “–and I had a scarf that Vitya gave me after Worlds that year. I put it on Katsuki because he looked cold, and what do I get? The next time I see my scarf, it’s on Vitya’s Instagram. In _Japan_.”

“I’m sorry, I needed it,” Yuuri pipes up from the couch. “For… reasons!”

The picture Yakov mentioned is not shown, but there is a brief fan candid shot of Katsuki Yuuri sleep-snuggling a scarf on his international flight.

“Smelled like him,” is all that is squeaked out.

THE REAL DEAL is 10% brutal honesty, 25% embarrassing fluff, 25% sexy hijinks, 40% embarrassing childhood stories, and 100% Mari and Yakov commiserating over their stubborn, love-drunk skater family


	9. but the sPoNSerS

“The _sponsors_ ,” Yuuri hisses to Viktor upon their entrance to the banquet in Barcelona. His eyes rove over the well-dressed, talkative crowd. 

“Um,” says Viktor, “yes?”

“They were here _last year_.”

“Yes? They’re here every year.”

“How have I gotten _any_ sponsorship money, even with you on my side?!”

“Oh,” says Viktor, “that’s right,” because Viktor Nikiforov is still dealing with months and _months_ of memories to be reinterpreted from Yuuri’s blinded point of view. His brain categorically flips through the various sponsorships Yuuri had been offered “out of the blue,” once it was clear he was returning:

–commercials for two video games that were essentially Dance Dance Revolution. Upon reading the script, Yuuri had quietly, confusedly muttered “I challenge you to… a dance-off?” Viktor’s knees had gone out, which he’d had to pretend was the result of an old injury.

–Partnerships with Dos Equis, Jack Daniels, Bacardi, Sapporo, Asahi, Patron. Yuuri had been lolling on Viktor’s bed, watching dog videos and using a willing Viktor as his personal heating pad. “Guess they heard about my college years,” he said, mouth quirking up a little, in that way where Viktor couldn’t tell if he was joking, teasing, or being straightforward. If Yuuri didn’t consider his drunken grace in Sochi impressive, Viktor needed to know what else Yuuri had done. He _NEEDED IT-_ \- “though I think if I reject Baileys’ offer of free alcohol for a year, Minako AND my father will disown me.” 

“Nobody offers me free beer,” Viktor almost whimpered, and Yuuri kissed him on the cheek before dropping his phone on Viktor’s chest. 

“Draft the email to the company’s rep for me, and maybe I’ll let you have some.”

–a commercial with a very vague plot– “Why am I a fireman in a _dog food_ commercial, what’s the point,” Yuuri had fussed, failing to understand the entire point. “I’m going to look so ridiculous, sliding down a pole.” 

–so, so many partnerships with underwear companies, specifically selling boxers. ”Maybe it’s because I was raised in an onsen and they think I’m fine with nudity?” Yuuri mused worriedly as he stepped into a new pair. Viktor wasn’t really thinking about it. There are only so many free underwear samples a man’s sanity can take. “Oh,” Yuuri hummed, thumb slipping beneath the elastic, “feel this, it’s really–”

Viktor’s heart isn’t ready to relive those experiences.

“Sweetheart,” Viktor sighs, as they make their way across the Barcelona banquet floor, sponsor’s eyes lighting up at the sight of them, “you’re going to be making good money for a _long_ time.”


	10. the rules of endearment

Before Viktor Nikiforov meets the man who is already, by law, his husband, he sets up some ground rules. Viktor knows how to play a role, knows that success in all things requires a firm hand and plenty of responsibility.

Viktor was an athlete, before he led a corporation whose stockholders feared was growing old, feeble. Outdated. He was an athlete, and he understands what sacrifice and duty can achieve. If the stockholders and his father want him to give up life and love, again, by marrying into and merging with a Japanese corporation who have wonderful resources but anxious, restrained management… he’ll do it.

After all, the only man he’s interested in won’t deign to make contact– hasn’t, not for years, and Viktor knows it’s foolish to hold on. It doesn’t stop him from writing rule #3.

1\. Each party will participate in weekly ‘date night,’ to maintain civility and foster friendship, for the good of the company.

2\. Each party will respect each others’ personal space and property; our bedrooms and belongings will be left untouched by the other party.

3\. Each party will be allowed one extramarital affair at a time. More would present too much risk of discovery. All partners will be required to sign a non-disclosure agreement. One week ‘vacation’ per year will be allowed for the sake of this affair.

There are more rules, Viktor will recall when he tells the story later, but these are the three that are his downfall. Viktor prepares for lovelessness, in his marriage.

His wedding to one of the Katsuki conglomerate’s heirs was meant to be a public, boisterous event in Russia– a networking opportunity.

“No,” says Katsuki Hiroko. “If he joins our family, he comes to Hasetsu.”

Viktor goes, with very little hope in his heart. He still brings his dog– who has a wedding ceremony without a dog?– and his rules, the defenses he can manage.

Neither help. Makkachin, the light of his life, sleeps in Yuuri’s bedroom the first night. His rules– his rules are read in a hallway, the door to Yuuri’s room barely cracked, Yuuri’s amber eyes glazing with an overwhelmed frustration.

He is also, unfortunately, the _Yuuri_ that Viktor has been longing for. It should be easy, to take the rules back, to rip them into a hundred pieces, to let them disintegrate into watery swirls of ink in the onsen waters.

Shoulders hunched, Yuuri signs on the dotted line. Right next to the signature a past Viktor had congratulated himself on signing with a flourish. Past Viktor was just as foolish as the one in the present.

When Viktor gets him back into their new apartment in Russia, the rules don’t need onsen waters to disintegrate.

They’re demolished in order: rule one works, for a week or two, at least until Viktor and Yuuri begin to edge into two date-nights each week– three. Four. Viktor has a company to run– _Yuuri_ has a company to run. They should be busy. They shouldn’t have the time, for walks where they don’t hold hands, dinners where they don’t play footsie, movie nights on the couch where Viktor wants so badly to _kiss_ but they never do. 

“But it’s date night,” Viktor says, quietly, into the phone on a Tuesday evening, when Yuuri reveals that a coworker has asked him out for a round of drinks. It was date night on Monday, and Sunday. Saturday morning and Saturday afternoon and Saturday evening, too. All Yuuri, all the time, never enough.

Viktor wouldn’t blame his husband, for trying to escape this excess.

“I,” Yuuri says, and his voice wavers, “Viktor, I’m on my way home. He’ll understand. Next time, we’ll all go out together.”

After that, rule number 2 doesn’t stand a chance.

Viktor had already tried to break rule 2, because Viktor was a rebel. Even when Viktor was the one setting his own constraints, Viktor was a rebel. He’d just wanted in Yuuri’s room to sit and _bask_ , to figure out why blue was Yuuri’s favorite color, swathed in a room of it and all the things Yuuri loved. Pictures of Hasetsu, of his dog. Pictures of–

“Is that me?” All the lights are off, but Viktor remembers this picture. Graduating with his finance degree, top of his class, memorialized by the newspaper article the picture has been cut from. He remembers graduation– remembers the graduation party his department had thrown, the man a year younger who had also attended. A man at the top of his own class, but whose first start-up had just gone bankrupt.

“No,” Yuuri says, and when Viktor reaches for it, “Vitya, _please_. Vitya, rule 2, I’m invoking rule 2.” Viktor is wrapped up in Yuuri’s sheets. Viktor is wearing their university’s T-shirt, and they’re both pretending it’s the one that belongs to him, even though it smells like Yuuri. Rule 2– _don’t touch each others’ belongings, don’t enter each others’ bedrooms–_ is demolished, but Yuuri clings to it, and Viktor…

Viktor fears rule 3. 

They’re legally married, and in an unspoken way, so much more. But rule 3 still exists, and Yuuri could always choose to use it. 

Viktor’s salary would make a king weep. He still notices, when several thousand dollars go missing from their ridiculously large bank account. It’s not like Yuuri to be lavish.

But, oh. Tracing the purchase is easy: they’re plane tickets, from Russia to Barcelona. A stay at a grand hotel, complete with a spa and a pool.

The trip spans exactly one week.

Viktor thinks of rule number 3, and tries not to squeeze Makkachin too tightly, a mimic of his constricting lungs. There’s bound to be another explanation, he tries futilely to convince himself.

His surly secretary schedules him a week-long business trip with one of their business partners in Kazakhstan– _Katsuki insisted they needed your loud opinions over there, some stupid HR thing._ Viktor’s husband wants him 6,500 kilometers away, when he invokes Rule #3, under the sparkling lights of Barcelona’s early Christmas celebrations.

6,500 kilometers.

He fires off a text– _won’t be home tonight, discussion with Yakov_ – only for a phone call to come in. Viktor picks up, because he’s a smitten fool.

“If you need to work, just ignore me,” is Yuuri’s soft plea, “but… it’s date night.” It’s a Wednesday. Viktor goes back to their apartment. Rule 2 and Viktor’s heart are shredded, cremated, buried under heated whispers and a thousand of Viktor’s doubts.

The tickets to Barcelona remain. So does Viktor’s business trip to Kazakhstan. When they cuddle on the couch, Yuuri looks at his phone more often. He begins deleting text messages, taking phone calls in his room, shutting screens on his laptop frantically when Viktor opens the door.

Viktor clings to their arranged marriage, because at least then there’s a possibility of Yuuri coming back. Divorce papers, waiting to strike, peek out from beneath product proposals on the mahogany of Yuuri’s desk– and then, then Viktor doesn’t even have that.

They still celebrate Yuuri’s birthday. Katsudon steaming on the table, Makkachin in a miniature tie, a briefcase full of bones for her.

“A true businesswoman,” Yuuri declares. “These are the people who stood in her company’s way.” Viktor laughs, and Viktor cries, and they fall asleep all tangled up in his bed, like Yuuri’s not going to spend a week in someone else’s.

On a cold morning in December, Viktor wakes up. Blindly takes the airline e-ticket Yurio had printed for him, _Almaty_ stamped in unfeeling black letters all over the top. Yuuri is already gone– his closet half-empty, like he’ll be gone for a month. A year. The rest of Viktor’s life.

His chauffeur takes him to the airport, starched and fitted business suits and his work laptop all he brings along. The only light is the possibility of Peruvian coffee, waiting for him at the end of security, bitter but familiar. Viktor makes it to check-in, watches his information scroll across the top of the screen–

_Yuri Plisetsky, Seat 3A, IATA– >ALA_

Viktor blinks. Reads it again. Yurio may have a disruptive personality, even in his early twenties, but his work is always impeccable. How would he even book a flight with his name, not Viktor’s, it seems impossi–

“Vitya!”

Viktor feels motion sick, and he’s not even airborne yet. It’s one thing to know his husband is flying off to Barcelona for an approved affair. It’s another to have to _watch him go_.

With a desperation he hopes his shareholders never see, he jams at the screen, waits for _Yuri Plisetsky_ to somehow morph into _Viktor Nikiforov_. Yuuri finds him anyway, exposed, one hand desperately crushing his passport within the depths of his coat pocket. _Please_.

Yuuri’s hair is slicked back. He’s wearing a suit, grabs at Viktor’s lapels and drags him into a quick kiss.

“Change in plans,” he asserts, somehow still shy, “okay with you?”

Then Viktor sees Yurio, stalking in Yuuri’s wake, dragging three suitcases with him.

“Give me my ticket,” he demands, screeching their wheels to a stop, hand out. “I’m not missing my flight to visit Otabek while you two have a _moment_ at a check-in kiosk.”

“I–” Yuuri is pulling tickets out of his pocket, and Viktor can’t find his voice, “Yuuri, there’s two tickets?”

Yuuri taps his nose with them, cheeks flushed. “How do you feel about Barcelona, Spain?”

“ _Us_?”

The hardened, determined glint in Yuuri’s eyes is fading, giving way to hesitance. “Yes. If you want to go? A trip, just you and me? You never have a vacation, Vitya.”

Viktor thought he might come back from Kazakhstan to only his beloved dog.

“Yes,” he gasps, “yes, Yuuri, yes, yes–” and doesn’t stop gasping, even when Yurio rolls a suitcase across his dress shoe. Even when they’re buckled in to first class, Yuuri gulping at champagne nervously, their fingers interwoven across the arm of their couples chair, Viktor can’t catch his breath.

“I thought it’d be a nice surprise,” Yuuri admits, “but you look… ahh. Vitya. Please tell me, if this was a bad idea.”

Viktor leans, buries his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. “ _No._ It’s the best surprise. I thought you were going to divorce me. I thought you were implementing Rule 3. I thought…”

Yuuri looks crestfallen. “You’re… you’re still thinking about the endearment contract we signed? You still consider that valid?”

“I want to _burn it_ ,” Viktor states firmly. _And any divorce papers, too_.

Yuuri still hasn’t denied that part, and this is suddenly horribly, heartbreakingly evident. Their flight attendant starts to instruct them on what to do in case of an emergency landing. Viktor squeezes his eyes shut, and wishes as hard as he can.

In a cathedral in Barcelona, Yuuri takes his hand.

“I want our last set of contracts null and void,” he murmurs. “Viktor, I want…”

Viktor wants that, too. Everything.

They divorce in Barcelona, but only so they can marry again.


	11. sockhop

“Ah, Viktor,” Christophe sighs, upon spotting him, “really, cherie?”

Viktor twirls, just once, pink felt flaring out around his waist. “What? You said it was an Americana retro party. This is retro.”

“I _meant_ wear some very skimpy flapper outfit. Or maybe legwarmers and a spandex suit.”

Viktor sniffs. “I’m not dressing as a neon horror from an 80′s exercise video.”

“I get you out of the library and to a frat party _one time_ in the semester, _one time_. Help me help you, darling.” Viktor does not have to mention that he is their class valedictorian and student body president, and he has long ago sacrificed keggers and cute frat boys to maintain his GPA. They promptly start off down the hall, probably so they can fuss with the way Viktor’s black puffy scarf lays over his white shirt. Possibly, Christophe’s going to ‘accidentally’ spill some water on his chest– he has very firm ideas about nipples and pectorals. (He and Viktor are in agreement on that).

They never make it to the bathroom.

“Who is _that_?” Christophe pulls at him, but Viktor’s vintage saddle shoes may as well be nailed to the floor.

“ _That_ is Yuuri Katsuki,” Christophe grimly explains. “If you exited the library, you’d have heard about him by now.”

All Viktor can do is stare. There are some very complex dance moves happening both on the floor and inside Viktor’s chest.

“If _he_ ever exited the lab, he’d have heard of himself by now; yet he always acts like he hasn’t. A PhD candidate _and_ a fratboy.”

Viktor is not prepared, when the dancing ends and Yuuri, blue fabric tied sloppily around his head, whips around and gasps.

“My– my _partner!_ ”

Viktor automatically looks– because a man with a body like _that_ must have a partner of equal beauty– only to realize that those brown eyes are on _him_. The felt that had gathered around Yuuri’s waist as he spun on his head, revealing tight black boxers, is yanked down by his tan, graceful hands– _oh_. 

They match.

Yuuri’s wearing a poodle skirt. The blue fabric on his head is a sash, like Viktor has around his neck. Beneath it, his hair is a dark, soft mess of curls. Viktor knows, because he’s suddenly gifted with the sight of it, so close, as Yuuri sways past all the personal space Viktor usually tries to maintain. Usually, he’d politely smile, back away, say something like–

“Do you have a poodle cut?”

No, that is not what Viktor would usually say. His brain isn’t working. Nothing is working, except his stomach, which has the oddest fluttering feeling…

“ _Yes_!” Yuuri hiccups, tossing arms around him, “you noticed! You’ve– you’ve never noticed…”

Viktor does not find out what he’s never noticed, because it descends into Japanese babbling. At least, until Yuuri backs up, begins to toe off his ballroom shoes to reveal perfect, if a little bruised, feet. 

_Oh_ , Viktor thinks. _Oh, oh, oh_.

“Sock hop?”

Viktor’s knees feel too wobbly to dance, but he and Yuuri manage.


	12. The Aftermath

Can you imagine being the hotel staff that cleans up the suite in China where Katsuki and Nikiforov stayed? Like, she and her coworker have seen the TV broadcasts, they’ve seen the interviews, they’ve seen Eros and The Kiss! They’re ready for a royal mess, and a host of things about celebrities’ sex lives that they _did not wanna know_. Instead, they find:

–A notepad clearly used for ice-skating themed Pictionary. For some reason, only a sparkly blue and sparkly pink pen were used. There was also an argument about something named “Makkachin”– with _Katsuki Makkachin_ and _Makkachin Nikiforov_ alternating with strike-outs until, inexplicably, there’s just a drawing of a poodle wearing a traditional Russian ushanka. (” _Fine, you win, you win, you win!”_ Yuuri had giggle-gasped. Neither of them had dared write what they truly desired Makkachin’s name to be: _Makkachin Katsuki-Nikiforov._ )

–A half-consumed bag of dog treats, even though there was never a dog in the hotel?? “Do you think… international hero Viktor Nikiforov eats dog treats?” She whispers to her coworker, but he was raised in Russia, so he throws a dusting rag at her and hisses “SACRILEGE”

–Two towels that reek of chlorine (even though it’s the dead of winter), two towels with both silver and black hair (”Towel sharing? But _why_?” She asks, and honestly, Yuuri had asked the same question. “Do you not want to?” Viktor had responded, plaintively, and upon evaluation, Yuuri realized he wanted to share _everything_ ), and finally… two hand towels folded up into elegant, three-dimensional designs. One is distinctly sloppier than the other– Viktor is still a distracted student sometimes, especially when being taught any skill by Katsuki Yuuri, Distraction Extraordinaire. 

–Embarrassingly obvious tracks in the carpet that show both beds being dragged about before settling into the middle of the room. Now the beds rest innocently back in their normal positions. …and they’re not fooling anyone.

–A handwritten thank-you note from Katsuki Yuuri himself, detailing how pleasant and comfortable their stay was and referencing the desk clerk by name– along with a generous tip. That part is from Viktor. There’s another part from Viktor, too– a hastily scribbled secret. _Yuuri was raised in a family hotel, and his parents asked that travelers leave notes in the rooms! He thinks everyone does this <3 ISN’T HE THE CUTEST–_

The rest of the note is too excitedly penned to make out clearly.

“I need to post it online,” her coworkers whispers faintly. “ _Everything_.”

“They’re obviously _angels_ ,” she hisses, “don’t you DARE make a spectacle out of them!”

Reporters assume all hotel staff keep their lips tightly sealed about Katsuki and Nikiforov out of professionalism– or a really good bribe. 

Honestly, it’s just that good old Katsuki-Nikiforov charm.


	13. here we go again

I have SO MANY throwback/deja vu headcanons for Viktor and Yuuri’s next season.

–While Yuuri picked out program music for himself during their first year, and Viktor had the final say, the next summer is a deep dive into “you like _what_ kind of music?!” Someone is always jamming in the kitchen or the bedroom, swinging Makkachin around, fumbling with the pink Cadillac’s jerry-rigged audio system as they whip down the long, windy roads of St. Petersburg. Yuuri has never heard of Viktor’s sixth favorite opera!? Unacceptable. They’re catching a plane to Italy to experience it _tonight_. The months spent picking out their program music pieces, in Mila Babicheva’s opinion, deserves a world record for ‘longest foreplay.’

–Yurio and Yuuri, by force of habit, feel the need to sneak in extra quad/ice time, and trade off skills. And then–

“Vitya!” Yuuri lands a quad sal perfectly, dances his way down the side of the rink, only to pass by his fiance, arms crossed, and screech to a stop. “I– you’re supposed to be at ballet practice until–”

“6pm,” Viktor says, “I know. It’s 6:45.” There is no way to hide their illicit quad activities, and Yuuri waits for the impending scolding with hunched shoulders. Any moment now, and– “Yakov’s gone?” Luckily, Yurio is there to scowl and nod. “Wonderful. Why are we practicing the Salchow when our Loops need more work?” Yuuri tries and fails to hide his gaping, and Viktor puts a finger to his lips, smiles secretively. “We’re all disobedient skaters today. Don’t tell your coach.”

( _Don’t tell your coach_ has become a _thing_ , mostly because that was one of Yuuri’s major fantasies about them as competitors before Viktor was both competitor _and_ coach. Yuuri is never going to admit how much of a thrill that is)

–There are times where they’re both competing, often right after one another, so warm-up and focusing time is a whole new beast. Yuuri manages to intimidate a wall into submission while stretching to the sounds of Viktor’s sixth favorite opera, and Viktor now practices his step sequences at a safe distance and stares on in adoration. 

–Honestly, at some point, they are bound to end up in a parking garage.

Viktor is carefully laying the day’s purchases out in the backseat–black bags with designer initials– while Yuuri rips the tag off his new sweater, snuggles it over his T-shirt, and settles into the passenger side. When Viktor finally slides in, fumbling with his seatbelt because of his winter gloves, Yuuri abandons his phone game and clicks it in for him, knees perched on the dashboard. It costs him the game. He swears, low and slick and easy, in both English and Russian, taps rapidly at the screen.

Viktor does not start the car. Yuuri looks up. “What, sweetheart? Forget something? I can run back in and grab it, if you describe it to me using actual colors.”

“Chartreuse is a color!” Viktor protests, laughing, “we talked about this!”

“We did, and I won. Chartreuse is alcohol, and green is green.”

“You,” Viktor sputters, grinning, before he feels actual _tears_ beginning to roll down his face.

“Tell me what it is and I’ll rescue it, unless you want to sit in this parking garage all… day… Vitya? _Oh_.”

“I’msolucky,” is all he can gasp on an intake of breath, “so _happy_ , Yuuri, that you’re still here and I’m here with you and in love and– just ignore me, I’m being sentimental–”

Yuuri’s phone is clattering against the stick shift, brown eyes wide and misty. Always a sympathetic crier, after Barcelona, now that Viktor’s tears are no longer mythical and new. Sympathetic, and genuine, and already shoving his rapidly heating face into the soft crook of Viktor’s neck.

“C-come on, a parking garage?” A wet hiccup. “Again?”

Everything is new and familiar all at once, and this– being in love, being with each other– he’d thought falling in love with Viktor for the first time in Hasetsu was a torrent of joy and emotion he’d never be able to replicate.

Their first season as competitors proves him wrong.


	14. angst angst angst angst

Yuuri finds out about Viktor’s most tragic secret a mere 3 _months_ into the summer– and if he could ignore Viktor while his fifth GPF medal glinted around his neck, Viktor doesn’t want to know what rejection he’ll get now.

“What,” says Yuuri. The Shiba Inu puppy in his arm squirms. Their neighbors– their brilliant, horrible neighbors– had brought her over. Viktor wonders, briefly, if he and Yuuri will be able to share the same bath tonight. “Don’t you want to pet her?”

“Of course I do,” Viktor replies instantly, because that’s the truth. “Buuut.”

There’s something like amusement fluttering in Yuuri’s eyes– except Viktor has learned not to assume what Yuuri’s feeling. 

“We don’t have to tell Makkachin,” Yuuri promises, the barest hint of a chuckle at the end of it. Oh, that isn’t FAIR. Yuuri gets to be coy and shy and demanding all at once, and Viktor has to _suffer_.

“That’s not the problem.” He wedges a smile onto his face, a bright one, and Yuuri squints at him. Too bright, probably. Yuuri’s mouth opens, but Viktor beats him to it. “I’mallergictodogs!”

The puppy barks, panting delightedly and still reaching for him, as Yuuri jolts and stares. “You’re _what_?”

Viktor’s going to reach old age and be sitting in a rocking chair on a porch alone. If there’s one thing about Drunk Yuuri Katsuki and Sober Yuuri Katsuki that has ever matched, it’s their passion for puppies.

“Allergic,” Viktor whispers, ducking his head. “It’s true. I’m sorry.”

“I–” he can’t seem to comprehend it. Viktor can’t, either. It’s as though the universe saw his positive traits– athletic, conventionally attractive, and possessing a heart bursting with love for soft, cuddly creatures– and decided to give him a star-crossed, fatal flaw. “But you have a poodle?” The silence speaks volumes. “…poodles are hypoallergenic.” 

And this is it. The deciding moment. If Yuuri wants a normal life with frolicking, furry, adorable breeds of non-hypoallergenic dogs, he’s going to leave Viktor in the dust.

Viktor is so screwed. _Nothing_ and _nobody_ beats puppies.

And like Viktor should have known he would, Yuuri scrambles up from the floor, offering the Shiba Inu to Viktor for a brief second– before he thinks better of it. Then he’s off, puppy cradled in his arms, padding off into parts of the onsen unknown. A man on a mission.

 _Goodbye_ , Viktor thinks, wiping a single tear from his eye. _Goodbye, my loves._

* * *

At bedtime, there’s something on Viktor’s door. Normally this wouldn’t phase him– people plaster things on his door, on his mailbox, all of the time. But this is different. This is _pictures_.

Dog. Pictures. An Irish Water Spaniel, chasing its own tail. A Maltese, silky white hair flowing elegantly in the wind. The one right at his eye level is a selfie– Yuuri, playing with Makkachin’s ears, face half hidden. It’s obvious he had only meant to capture her– but it’s still Viktor’s favorite of the lot.

“Um, Viktor.” Yuuri interrupts what’s bound to become a happy crying jag, voice soft in the hallway. “I just… these are all dogs you can have. I saw how upset you were over the puppy today, and I was being stupid and thought–”

“I love it,” Viktor declares. _I love you._ “I want all of them.” Surely they’ll all fit in the onsen. He gathers the pictures against his chest, not even listening to his own babble over the possibilities. Yuuri sits back on his heels, soft smile growing, till Viktor finally slows to a stop, beaming.

This isn’t rejection, not by a long shot. In fact, Yuuri steps even closer. His hands peek out from behind his back.

“Now that you’re cheered up, here’s the last one,” Yuuri murmurs, pushing one last picture forward, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. “I thought you might like this one especially, because it… matches.”

A mostly hairless dog stares back at him– a Chinese crested. Its tiny shock of white hair does nothing to cover its baldness. It matches _Viktor_.

“YUURI,” Viktor shrieks, “YUURI–”

Tragic allergies aside, they’re going to be just fine.


	15. chores

The chores at the Katsuki-Nikiforov household are distributed very evenly but with much forethought.

–Yuuri cleans the drains. This is because one time, Viktor pulled a lump of silver hair the size of a hamster from their shower drain, and Yuuri had to physically pry it from his rubber-gloved hands and toss it in the trash. Viktor was bereft for hours. Also, Yuuri is the only one who can withstand Makkachin’s adorable but accusing looks over the rim of the tub without giving in. In Makkachin’s opinion, if there is a Dad decked out in cleaning gear in the tub, it is Splashy Poodle Baby Bath Time.

–Viktor maintains the fireplace. Yuuri is objectively better at maintaining the fireplace and starting fires, but the sight of it is so terrifying that both Yurio and Viktor have run for the fire extinguisher, on separate occasions. “What,” says Yuuri, face essentially buried in the flames of the creosote cleaning log he has burning as he continues to sweep around it, “high heats don’t really bother me? I was raised in an onsen.” 

–Viktor cleans the windows because 1. he gets to dog watch while he does it and 2. Yuuri really likes the idea of people walking past Viktor’s home on Sunday mornings, seeing him casually dressed in a Japanese jinbei, sporting hickies and rose-colored bruises that basically spell out YUURI KATSUKI’S HUSBAND. Viktor hasn’t figured out reason 2 yet.

–On a similar note, Yuuri hasn’t figured out the real reason why he does most of the lawn work. Shoveling snow in the winter? Yuuri’s biceps have _got this_. Mowing their lawn in a mild Russian summer? Yuuri will still sweat, pulling up his shirt to reveal glistening abs. Viktor “waters the plants” while Yuuri does this, meaning Viktor drowns the plants and tries not to look too smug when his gaping neighbors physically cannot escape the attractiveness of his husband.

–Technically, it is Yuuri’s job to make the bed, because he’s always the last one out of it. Everyone who has ever seen the Katsuki-Nikiforov bedroom assumes Yuuri doesn’t do his job–this is not true. The bed gets made daily: but only once.

Yurio is helping them clean out their (frankly ridiculous) walk-in closet– because he just got his license, he proudly insists on being the one to drive the boxes to charity. When he returns thirty minutes later, expecting his promised reward for helping, Yurio finds the katsudon unmade, Viktor glowing pink, and the formerly pristine bed wrecked. Makkachin, unsupervised, has flung Yurio’s leopard print jacket onto her pile of slobbery dog toys.

“Well,” says Viktor, trying and failing to discreetly wipe the dog drool off, “there was already cat hair on this anyway.” His husband sighs.

That angelic face screws up into a scowl. Viktor and Yuuri try to live by a strict NO REGRETS policy with their sex life, but they mutually acknowledge that this time, it was probably a bad decision.

“Is this what I get for helping you idiots, HAH?!”

–Knowing whether Yuuri or Viktor is in charge of a household chore really helps when they’re cleaning Yurio’s house


	16. heaven in hiding

Viktor, against Archangel Yakov’s advice, decides one cold winter night that a beautiful boy dying of hypothermia in a lake in Japan needs him. (Yakov doesn’t know that Viktor’s listened to Yuuri pray every night for his dog, watched him dance, went and visited him on one drunken night.)

“S-stupid,” he shivers after Viktor pulls him out, “they told me not to s-skate but I had to, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s okay,” Viktor says. The hug he receives is like being pushed off a cliff into a bank of white flakes, snowmelt dripping from Yuuri’s clothes.

And Viktor is in love.

There’s a problem, of course, because no one gets to be in love without some suffering. The problem’s name is Eros.

“Saving him was brave,” says Eros, with Yuuri’s lips and Yuuri’s sparkling eyes. “But by the time you reached him in that lake water, we’d already made a deal. His life on my terms– your love is a fighter.” His tongue darts over his shining, soft lips. “He’s mine now.”

“Release him, demon,” says Viktor, with all the supernatural force of an ancient. “I won’t allow you to hurt Yuuri. To take his soul.”

“Take his soul? _Hurt_ him?” Eros smirks. “My, heaven has the strangest ideas about how demons work.”

True to his word, Yuuri is fine.

Yuuri is _more_ than fine. When Viktor wakes up, in a bed he’d conjured along with a story about being a traveler from Russia, he wakes to the sight of Yuuri climbing across the sheets.

“Viktor,” he whispers. Viktor has spent a millenia in heaven, and never before have the joys of the flesh tempted him.

But he _loves_ Yuuri, and if this is what Yuuri wants–

“Thank you,” says seduction incarnate, wholly innocent, “for not leaving me alone at the bottom of the lake.”

It’s too easy, to wrap up his still freezing form in Viktor’s comforters, to cuddle him close. 

In the morning, Yuuri warm and alive against him, little puffs of breath curling across his collarbone, hair messy perfection, face sleep-soft, irresistible in both an earthly and magical way…. Oh, Viktor _understands_.

“Yuuri,” he presses carefully, and he has to know, he has to. “Do you feel… different than yesterday?” His face lights up with an aching blush, crimson and startled, because Yuuri _does_. Yuuri _wants, so much._ Too much.

Viktor is this man’s guardian angel now, and Eros will drag them both straight to hell. 

There are other things, too.

“I know you came for me because Eros called for you,” Yuuri reveals one evening, so soft. “I remember–begging. Pleading for someone, anyone, _so cold_ , dying all alone… and the only thing there was Eros.” His lashes are wet. “Aren’t you a demon too? Aren’t you the one who’ll take my soul?”

“Darling.” At this point, Viktor isn’t sure how much Eros even manipulates them– or how much they’re fated. “I’ve lived in heaven all my life, Yuuri, and you’re the only thing that can compare.”

(Demons are alone, Viktor realizes, when he’s introducing Yuuri to Yakov, admiring Yuuri’s new wings. Lust is just one form of love–which is something demons aren’t supposed to be able to feel. 

But they do.

He doesn’t know why the lake ice cracked beneath Yuuri’s feet that night. But would it be so strange, for a demon to bring them together?)


	17. taking turns

Viktor wakes up early, and Yuuri does not. This is a useful fact.

Ever since Yuuri came to St. Petersburg, Viktor has taken to “sleeping in.” He mentions this to Mila once, and she snickers, the sparkle in her eyes far too suggestive. Explaining is useless.

Besides, he doesn’t have to explain anything to Yuuri.

“I know you’re awake,” Yuuri groans, flicking one eye open. 6am is the time. 

“I’m dozing,” Viktor says, turned on his side, head propped on his arm for a better view. “I might go back to sleep.”

Yuuri’s responding snort is absorbed by his pillow. “No you’re not,” he muffles into the covers. “Just gonna lay there and watch me, aren’t you.”

Viktor ponders this. “Creepy, isn’t it?”

In lieu of a response, Yuuri sleepily lays his right hand on Viktor’s face. It smells like their laundry detergent, and Yuuri, and faintly of dishwashing soap– to clean the wedding ring on his finger.

 _Married you for this_ , he can almost hear Yuuri saying. 

Yuuri’s actual words are quite different. “My turn to stare just happens… late at night,” he concludes slowly, trailing off into a dream. Content, he pats at Viktor’s face.

“Oh,” whispers Viktor delightedly, and then Yuuri jerks forward so fast their heads knock together. “OW, darling–”

“ _Don’t_ start wearing makeup to bed now that I’ve said that,” Yuuri warns fiercely.

Viktor has always believed in true love, but with his fiance, he almost believes in mind-reading, too.


	18. mixup

Yuuri has never quite understood Viktor’s delight when they meet someone who has _no_ idea who they are. But about two years into their marriage, he’s starting to get it.

“Met through figure skating, huh,” the older lady draws out slowly. Her gaze sways between him and Viktor. Yuuri is about 80% sure this is a distant cousin of the Chulanonts, but his brain had blanked out during her introduction. 

“They’re famous, Hathai,” Phichit explains. 

“More famous than you?”

“Nope,” says Phichit with a _pop_ of his lips and wide, innocent eyes. Viktor’s mouth twitches up, amused. “Course not! But it was quite the love story. Over ten years ago he saw him skating for the first time, became his biggest fan, and devoted his life to the sport. Then, years later–” and several international scandals later “–they entered a student-coach relationship and fell in mutual love!”

“Oh, dear,” she says, smiling sweetly, “that’s some dedication you have! So you’ve been his biggest fan since childhood?”

Hathai has spent the last hour of this dinner party watching Viktor trail Yuuri around the gathering, hand on his shoulder, heart-shaped smile beaming out. Hathai has watched Viktor hand-feed him appetizers and sneak a kiss in the corner of the room and stare after Yuuri with delighted, disbelieving eyes.

Hathai is patting Viktor on the arm, and asking him this question.

In the past, Yuuri would have cleared his throat. “It’s me,” he’s taken to interrupting politely. It’s happened many, many times. “I was the fan first.”

Not anymore.

“Go on,” Yuuri prompts, trying not to make his smirk too obvious. Viktor’s mild protest dies out completely when Yuuri takes his hand, squeezes it. “Viktor. Tell her about how you became my biggest fan.”

The appeal of people removed from figure skating is never lost on Yuuri again.


	19. an impossibility

“I have to know,” Christophe says over a weekly call during The Summer of Mutual Pining. Viktor reclines on his towel, adjusts his sunglasses. “How much time do you spend photoshopping Yuuri’s pictures?”

“Would you _photoshop_ the Mona Lisa?” Viktor hisses into his phone, absolutely scandalized. “My Yuuri’s photos are all natural, thank you very much!”

“ _Your_ Yuuri, hmm.” Not Viktor’s yet. Not really. He’s working on it. There is quiet murmuring in the background. “Matthieu does not believe you,” Christophe reports.

“And why not?”

“Because of Seaside With The Seagulls, the third beach photo album you’ve posted.” Viktor does not reply, so Christophe presses onwards. “The photos show the man basically having an eight pack. That _cannot_ be real. I was beside him on a pole. I’d remember.”

“Yuuri’s been working out,” comes the smug, small little voice of Viktor Nikiforov, twenty-seven-year-old lovesick teenager. _Oh, you can be smug all you want_ , Christophe thinks, _you’re not tapping that yet._ “Ah!Yuuri’s coming back over to my umbrella, have to go. His abs are _glistening_ , Christophe.”

“I’m thirsty,” Christophe barely hears the quiet, American accent. Christophe has to disagree. Yuuri is clearly not the thirsty one, because despite an Instagram photo streak of 1,728 pictures, a move across thousands of miles, and one naked Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri has yet to make a move.

“Suck on this water bottle,” Viktor nearly begs. 

“You’re so screwed,” Christophe says into his ear.

“Let me have my eight pack, Christophe!”

“Beer comes in packs of six?” Yuuri’s voice floats in.

“Screwed,” Christophe whispers, to Viktor’s pained whine, and hangs up.


	20. what you don't know

Every day is spent feeling Yuuri out, fitting them together in a way that doesn’t destroy who either of them is as a person. Viktor loves that they fit this way; loves that he has sharp edges and awkward corners and that Yuuri still folds around them, that together they grow.

Yuuri continually surprises Viktor, but Hiroko is another matter entirely. 

Yuuri is forbidden from watching his competitors, at least in the few days before Rostelecom. This doesn’t mean that Viktor can’t watch—so after Yuuri’s disappeared to his room to briefly recharge, Viktor settles to watch a recording of the Trophee de France. Hiroko bustles around him, wiping away the last remnants of the dinner rush and clearing bottles of sake. He offers to help, but she shakes her head and hums her disagreement. Viktor’s still not sure how much English she knows. Viktor’s still not sure how much Japanese he knows, in Hasetsu’s dialect. There are times when she beams and nods and chatters to him slowly, clearly, and there are other times where she falls silent, smile warm but vague.

Viktor has long suspected that it isn’t just a language barrier. There is private, and then there are the Katsukis.

Still, the onsen is quiet, devoid of guests except one tipsy gentleman that is already snoring softly into the table he sits at. Viktor pats the ground beside him. “Mama?” _Mama_ , a word Hiroko had insisted he use and one he’s taken gross advantage of ever since. She kneels, lays a hand atop his.

“It’s late, Vicchan. Late for you.”

“I’m on the free skate,” he explains, “just a little more time.”

She glances at the screen, and Viktor can only imagine what her inexperienced eye sees. A man, in a sparkling outfit, moving from a nameless spin into a jump whose rotations she probably doesn’t realize to count. ‘ _Somehow, the Katsukis don’t know anything about figure skating!’_ The triplets had declared. Viktor will adjust. “Good music, isn’t it, Mama?”

Hiroko huffs, breath slight. “Doesn’t matter,” she declares, “if he wants to beat my Yuuri, he’ll need better base value than that, especially with his GOEs. Ah, but he’s young, so his mistake on the takeoff of the triple axel is…” she gestures, small and soft hand incapable of grabbing the word in English. She settles, finally, on a different word. “Normal? Yuuri did the same. Hm. This boy, though, they overscore his transitions and choreography.”

Viktor is too elegant to gape, or so he had always thought. “Mama,” he says, slowly, “have you been studying figure skating this season?” Mari has only now found her interest—perhaps it’s spread to her parents, as well.

Rather than answer, Hiroko stands. “My son doesn’t like pressure, Vicchan. Yuuri works very hard. We support him, but we must be careful, yes?”

Viktor had assumed that the onsen and Yuuri’s family, in all their unconditional love, was an accidental haven for Yuuri. If Yuuri can be a dime-a-dozen skater—if Yuuri can be a man not under the tremendous pressure that comes with world records and being one of the best six skaters in the nation, Yuuri can begin to cope.

Yuuri needs someone to believe in him, and trust him, without expectation. If Yuuri can be a man who returns home to parents who aren’t invested in, don’t understand, the world of skating…

“Careful,” Hiroko repeats, Hiroko who is not even supposed to know the first thing about skating, “yes?”

Oh, Viktor is always a stroke behind, when it comes to anyone named Katsuki. They know their beloved Yuuri so well. They know his sport, too.

“Yes. Thank you, Mama.”

“You are a good son,” says Hiroko before she shuffles off. Viktor gives up on the Trophee de France, and finds himself at Yuuri’s door. _Let us love you._

At the sight of him Yuuri lights up, quiet and bright, and he holds out his arms.


	21. SOCCER SWIMMER FOOTBALLER KATSUKI AND HIS TERRIFYING, INTIMIDATING CRUSH

SOCCER-SWIMMER-FOOTBALLER KATSUKI YUURI definitely, absolutely follows Viktor Nikiforov to the library and sits three tables away, “reading” a book upside down and staring at his gorgeous blue eyes and the way Viktor’s finger taps _just so_ at his lips when he does math. Yuuri also attends all of Viktor’s musicals/plays where he’s the star, and while the athletes and popular party kids know Yuuri is a shy sweetheart, the theater kids absolutely don’t. Dramatically, they whisper to Viktor, _oh my god meathead Katsuki’s here with his THIGHS and his BICEPS and also he’s GLARING at you, you’re going to get BULLIED SO HARD, what did you DO._

Viktor’s ideology when faced with someone that hates him (besides Yuri Plisetsky) is to pretend they don’t exist, at least for a while, so Yuuri is ignored.

Then Viktor substitute-teaches for a high-level dance class at the local studio, which Yuuri takes because dance is the reason he got involved in football in the first place (his coaches think his light footwork is like a dream).

Viktor isn’t even moving, but his head is already spinning. “Brutish, silent lunk Katsuki” that he keeps hearing about from the theater kids is the hottest, most graceful man he’s ever _seen_.

“Why have we had no classes together,” he demands of Hottest Man Alive.

“Uh,” says Katsuki, “we do? You just sit in the front row.” Like the nerd that Viktor is. “And I wear… hoodies. Sometimes my letterman jacket.”

“Letterman jacket,” Viktor whispers, realizing this is it, this is what he has wanted, this holds all the secrets of the universe.

Yuuri bought a letterman jacket that is two sizes too big for him, which means it fits _perfectly_ on Viktor.

“Can I have my jacket back,” Yuuri says. “Why do you want my jacket.”

“I don’t just want the jacket,” Viktor purrs. “I want… more.”

“You can’t have my shinguards,” Yuuri replies seriously, “or my Speedo swimsuit.”

“I need to see you in a swimsuit,” is Viktor’s instant hissed reply, and he’s lucky, because otherwise the next words out of his mouth would’ve been _I want you._

Eventually, Yuuri will figure it out. Mostly he’ll figure it out because Viktor keeps asking him “practice lines in this scene with me, Yuuri, please!”

“Okay? So, the star-crossed lovers unite, and… o-oh, god, is this really a scene you want to practice with _ME_? I don’t know how to fake kiss, do I– do I put my thumb–”

“Do you want a fake stage kiss, Yuuri? Or…”

“Okay, we’ll skip that part then,” Yuuri always says, relieved. If he has to be within a foot of Viktor’s lips, he’ll die. This is how it goes, a tragedy for Viktor Nikiforov, until one fateful afternoon.

“How many plays are you _doing_ ,” Yuuri questions, when Viktor comes to him with the sixth kiss scene that month.

“None of them,” Viktor admits, pressing his lips together. “I’m doing… none of them. Is that okay?”

“Oh,” Yuuri says, “yes,” and then he tugs Viktor in and they practice every romantic scene Viktor has ever proposed.


	22. fun facts about your nose

“Did you know,” says Viktor Nikiforov, approximately two weeks after his whirlwind arrival in Hasetsu, “that there’s erectile tissue in the nose?” He sneezes, delicately, for the second time. “There’s a myth that sneezing is one tenth of an orgasm–”

“ _Please stop_ ,” says Yuuri. For the next several weeks of their relationship, every time Viktor sneezes, wrinkling up his nose cutely, Yuuri has to bury his face in his hands. Embarrassment? That word hardly covers it. _Why would you SAY that_ , he thinks bitterly, as Viktor goes into a little sneezing fit, smiling Yuuri’s way and declaring with a delighted wiggle, _so satisfying!_

Several months later, Yuuri’s quite capable of answering his own question. “You’re a very petty man,” he accuses, when they’re lying in bed.

“It was make vague hints and terrible attempts at seduction,” Viktor says, “or accept heartbreak. Which would you choose?”

“Neither,” Yuuri replies, “I’m an excellent seductress. I’m a pork cutlet bowl fatale.”

“So _that’s_ what you were thinking? You don’t get to make fun of me!” Viktor crows, and Yuuri would smack him with a pillow, except,

“You’re the one who _liked_ it.”

“Guilty as charged,” Viktor admits. “Punish me. Make me sneeze ten times, Yuuri.”

The challenge is accepted.


	23. in the world

Katsuki Yuuri is a puzzle, one Viktor is always happy to go back to, sliding long fingers over the pieces. Yet every time he thinks he’s worked it out, he realizes there’s no edge to the puzzle, no end, and everything rearranges.

“Yuuri,” he calls, “what’s this?”

The dark mess of hair and pajamas emerges from the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. “Origami.”

“Was there some kind of craft fair near our house yesterday?”

“I made it,” Yuuri mutters. An intricate dragon, out of soft blue tissue paper, and Viktor’s fiance made it. “I needed something to do with my hands while I waited for the dashi to simmer.” For Yuuri, that’s the end of the discussion. No further explanation, just another piece of Yuuri’s history plucked mysteriously from the void. 

Yuuri can juggle. He can play piano. If his hands are steady and he’s given the right pen, he thoughtlessly sketches out calligraphy. When he sings to himself while Viktor soaps his back in the shower, he drifts between styles: Broadway showtunes, operatic Italian, Japanese lullabies. Knitting. Jump-rope. Shadow puppetry, when they’re feeling foolish under the covers of their king bed and waiting until they’re ready to… 

Viktor thinks he wouldn’t be surprised if Yuuri was capable of magic– but then Viktor would be lying to himself, because he _was_ surprised when Yuuri pulled quarters from out of thin air, made Viktor’s ring disappear for a few moments from beneath a cup.

“ _What can he not do?”_ Yurio hisses, half delighted and half serious, when he bites into homemade cake. Viktor wants to tell him he doesn’t know the half of it– he’s never played darts or cards with Yuuri, unlike poor Viktor Nikiforov. “How. How is it possible.”

“Darling,” Viktor probes, when he finds Yuuri spread over their living room floor one evening, whittling away at wood while sitting in his splits. “How do you… how do you know how to do all these things?”

“What? Oh, this?” Yuuri says, gesturing with his knife and carving that has only started to resemble Makkachin. “It’s silly.” Viktor wants to strangle him, quiet the easy dismissal– preferably with his lips. _It’s not silly. You’re brilliant. “_ We got a lot of different people, coming through the onsen. Sometimes, if the room wasn’t ready yet or they asked for company, I sat with them. I didn’t like…” he pauses, bites at his lip, and scrapes off a shred of wood. “Talking is difficult? I’m not entertaining, that way. But everyone likes teaching, so I picked up a few things.”

A few. Their apartment is a shrine to Yuuri’s many accomplishments, both world-record-holding and minute. Origami and sketches and trophy cases, gleaming. Viktor is the religion’s most ardent follower.

“We’re going to have so much fun when we retire,” he realizes.

“Hmm?” Is Yuuri’s only reply. Makkachin’s tail is emerging beneath his hands. “Also, do you want a massage later, Vitya?” He doesn’t even have to ask. Viktor pads over, sits behind him and wraps arms around his fiance’s steady waist.

“Do you know what I want to be the best at,” he hums into Yuuri’s neck.

“You’re already the best at skating,” Yuuri states bluntly. Nipping at his neck, Viktor wordlessly scolds the current world record holder. Yuuri laughs, the steady strokes of his whittling knife faltering as he twists to catch Viktor’s lips. “What, Vitya?”

“I want to be the best at loving you,” Viktor whispers, and it’s a skill he’ll spend his entire life perfecting.


	24. winter wonderland

If the YOI crew got together and built snowmen, you know exactly how it’d go down:

–Viktor and Yuuri would make THREE snowpeople, one of them being a snowdog and the other two so close that, when they melt three days later, their bottom halves meld together

–Yurio makes the biggest but least decorated snowman, because LIKE HELL IS ANYONE’S SNOWMAN GONNA BE BIGGER THAN HIS, NO ONE IS GOING TO MAKE FUN OF HIS SHORT SNOWMAN. Then he spends the rest of his time throwing snowballs and breaking icicles off the house to use for stabbing

–Otabek makes a snowcat, because he knew Yuri would want one but was too busy dealing with his Napoleon complex to make it himself

–Christophe very specifically makes a snowman. It is _unmistakably_ a snowMAN, if you catch my drift. 

–Mila makes a snowlady and uses all the right decorations– meaning, the birds are all over it. Mila likes to help out the little creatures. She also dyes the bottom half of Yurio’s snowman yellow with some Gatorade, and nearly gets stabbed for her troubles.

–Phichit makes a million miniature snowmen, all set out in various scenes, so he can take pictures. Think [Calvin and Hobbes style](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fexplore%2Fcalvin-and-hobbes-snowmen%2F%3Flp%3Dtrue&t=NjU2NTk4YjU0NjdmMmMyMWY0NDNmMjIxYTQxODkwODE5YTFkYmIyMCwxZXZYRmRWRg%3D%3D&b=t%3Az_1SRW2CrRVtpmGhbCm65A&p=https%3A%2F%2Fkiaronna.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F169437383533%2Fwinter-wonderland&m=1)

–Yakov and Lilia drink hot cocoa on the couch, under five blankets, and watch from the windows. They have locked all the doors for some peace and quiet, and none of those snow-soaked skaters have figured that out yet. They realize, when they’re freezing and knocking piteously to be let in. Viktor has already resigned to penguin huddling his husband. “For _survival_ , Yuuri,” he says, even though he is a typical Russian and can probably withstand a windchill of -20.

(Yakov will eventually let them back in, because he has a heart just like the marshmallows he and Lilia put in the hot chocolate– soft. Melting. Sweet.)

Then Viktor and Christophe start stripping out of their wet snowgear _right in the hallway_ , and Yuri is trying to sneak in a particularly large icicle to store in the freezer, and _damn it children_ –


	25. to your tastes

Something that Yuuri will never understand is Viktor Nikiforov’s equal passion both for spectacular clothing and for being _extremely_ naked.

When confronted, all Viktor says is, “nothing touches my skin unless it’s expensive and valuable. Those are the rules.”

“So, Makkachin,” Yuuri begins, and Viktor holds up a hand.

“Have you seen how much I spend on Makkachin’s grooming?” He has an excellent point. Viktor happily lords his win in the debate over his student by linking his fingers with Yuuri’s. They’re new, still– a relationship so young that even small things, like two pinkies brushing together, sends his heart into fits. Yuuri wonders when it will stop. He wonders if it _ever_ will.

“And me?”

“You,” Viktor sighs, sliding closer, elbow to elbow. This is all he says.

“You don’t like answering questions,” Yuuri mutters.

“It’s bad form as your teacher to say this,” he squeezes Yuuri’s palm, just a little, “but there is such a thing as a stupid question.”

Yuuri presses a vengeful, laughing kiss to his cheek, then settles, a trembling set to his mouth. “…I guess I was expensive. I cost you your life in Russia.” _Your career_.

Viktor doesn’t smile, just looks grim and leans forward to press words into Yuuri’s lips. “That wasn’t worth much, anymore. Not as much as you.”

“Ah,” Yuuri chokes.

“Ah,” Viktor mimics. “Now, come along. This shirt has suddenly become too cheap for my tastes. It must be taken off. Replaced with the touch of something more… valuable.”

“You’re a sap,” Yuuri grumbles, just to disguise the happy tears welling up in his eyes, and tugs a button out of its hole.


	26. smashed

“Where did my purple outfit go,” says Viktor, forlornly.

“We’re on teams now, stupid,” Yurio kindly explains from the floor, two feet from the television. His grandpa constantly frets over his eyesight. “You and I are red, and Katsudon is blue. It’s how Super Smash Bros works.”

“I want to be on Yuuri’s team.” Yuuri, who’s stretched out on the couch with his bare feet propped up in Viktor’s lap, wiggles his toes and smiles.

“That wouldn’t be fair, Vitya. Yurio needs extra firepower more than I do.”

“Nothing’s fair,” says Viktor, staring wistfully at Yuuri’s ankles.

“We’re starting!” Yurio snaps. “PAY ATTENTION!”

“Where am I?” Viktor questions, shoving at his control stick with a finger.

“Katsuki already fricking blasted you off the map, that’s what! Just! Stand over there! Shoot arrows at him with Link!”

“Did I do it,” Viktor asks mildly, eyes off the screen, as Link sluggishly swings his sword a stage away from the fierce battle between Yuuri’s Zelda and Yurio’s Samus. “Did I help?”

“NO!” Yurio screeches, as his character flies from the screen. “Get a new strategy!”

“Hmm,” says Viktor. A few moments later, Yurio’s fury turns to triumph.

“HELL YES, KATSUKI! Your playing SUCKS NOW, did you get tired? HAH!” The teen turns, controller lifted victoriously above his head. “YOU– ARGH!”

Viktor calmly sits up, disentangling his hands from Yuuri’s controller, freshly kissed lips smiling. “Go red team,” Yuuri breathes. In a great show of determination, his eyes have not left the television screen once.

“Honestly,” Viktor sighs to himself at Yurio’s death glare, standing up and walking to the liquor cabinet. “When Yuuri asked, I thought Super Smashed Bros was a drinking game…”


	27. give as good as you get

Yuuri was once a man that knew when people were hitting on him. 

That guy trying to catch a peek from behind a bookshelf and running into doorframes and passing him notes? That girl who keeps running her eyes up and down him, who compliments his hair? The 3rd year that steals his pencil and dares him to come take it back? Yuuri can be absorbed in his own life, and he may wear glasses, but he’s not _blind_.

By the time he’s received his twentieth chocolate on Valentine’s day, his last year in middle school, Yuuri knows he has to sit down and figure out what’s going on. Because Yuuri? He’s not special, or fit, or particularly handsome, or capable of being anything but an incredibly awkward boyfriend. 

Locked away in a bathroom stall, he thinks he gets it. Katsuki Yuuri is plain, and approachable, and as of yet has never opened up to anyone or anything except Vicchan, late at night. A man someone could pretend was anyone they wanted.

 _Oh_ , he realizes, _if they knew who I really was, this would stop._

He longs to express himself– longs to express the Katsuki Yuuri he hopes to be. So he very carefully folds up Katsuki Yuuri, who’s weak and small and shy but burns with uncontainable desire, and puts him away when he can. 

“Nobody thinks you’re weak,” says Viktor Nikiforov. He says this after weeks of Yuuri fleeing, Yuuri running, Yuuri waiting for the inevitable disappointment that will come when Viktor realizes who he really is.

 _Oh_ , he realizes, suspended over the ice in China with Viktor’s lips on his own. _You know who I am. And you’re not stopping._

“Oh,” says Viktor in the cab on the way back to the hotel. Then, breathier: “ _Yuuri_.”

“Months of flirting,” Yuuri asserts, “and now it’s my turn.”

“I– I thought you didn’t know? After the first few days, at least, I thought that.”

“Noticed,” Yuuri murmurs after a pause, and skates his fingers up the inseam of Viktor’s tailored pants. Viktor was over-the-top at first, and then more subdued– arms around his waist, foot nudging his beneath the table, gentle playing with his fingers, exclamations of reverence on the ice. “Didn’t think you meant… well. That doesn’t matter now.”

“Everything about you matters.”

Yuuri pinches the inside of his thigh, and Viktor gasps and slides down the taxi seat, immediately boneless. “You’re a flirt.”

“Only with you, darling.” Yuuri lets himself process this, rather than dismiss it immediately. “I can’t wait until we’re back at the hotel,” Viktor whispers, nearly a whimper, eyes sliding shut. Calmly, Yuuri eyes the tinted windows, the divider between them and the cabbie; Viktor had sprung for something ridiculous.

“I waited for months,” Yuuri says, even though he could almost say _years_. “I’m very tired of waiting.” Here is the Yuuri he’s wanted to be, fingers dancing across Viktor Nikiforov’s knees in all the ways they shouldn’t; here he is, whispering praise and heated promises into the shell of his ear as though he has the right to give it. As though he’s desirable, as though this is something Viktor _wants_ from him.

It is, he discovers, oh, it is. 

“You’re magnificent,” he says finally, and kisses Viktor’s neck. “And now, mine.”

Yuuri’s got twenty-three years of flirting, of gestures and games that never felt right, that he’s always brushed off and never responded to, because they couldn’t be meant for him.

“We’re here,” Viktor huffs, flushed. “We’re here and you’ll stop _teasing me–”_

They fumble into the elevator. Eyes on his coach, Yuuri drags his finger along a column of elevator buttons, a trail of lights leading to their floor.

All the more time to flirt.


	28. you found the pieces left of me

Katsuki Yuuri can time travel.

He can’t time travel far. Just blips, ten minutes forward and ten minutes back. It’s useful, or it was before he realized that being a perfectionist with the ability to time travel means sometimes his free skate is worse on the fifth try than it was on the first, and that he’ll never be able to get that feeling back, no matter if he gives himself a sixth try or a thirtieth.

Viktor Nikiforov is a skater from the fifties. He was landing a triple flip before most people even knew it existed. Yuuri has seen the grainy videos, squeezed his hands painfully into his knees as he watched decades old choreography, step sequences. How can something skated so long ago still make him cry?

When he was younger, Yuuri had even _known_ that he should stop the strange obsession– reading the other man’s biography, watching his old skating videos and his televised performances, so many things, heavy with dust, that he stored in his heart. How can you love someone who you’ve never met– who’s been dead for years, who’s never breathed at the same time as you? You can’t. But he traces his fingers over old, crumbling newspapers anyway, squeezes his eyes tight and wonders what Viktor would be like, in the flesh, the things he would say if Yuuri could just ask.

Yuuri can jump back ten minutes. Usually nothing more. Maybe if he practiced…

The farthest he gets is thirty minutes. It’s enough to make sure he doesn’t miss a train. It will never be enough to reach Viktor Nikiforov, who disappeared one day in April of 1963 and was never seen again.

“You know,” the man sitting across from him on the train says one morning, “I can tell that you’re jumping.”

“Sorry?” Yuuri hums. He looks up, and his stomach drops. “Viktor?” He breathes, before he can stop himself. The other man stills.

“You know who I am?”

“Sorry,” Yuuri says with a duck of his head. “Sorry, you just look like– someone I know.” Someone Yuuri doesn’t know. Someone he will never know.

“Well,” the other man says with a shrug, “I am Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov. And I’ve never seen anyone jump like you.” At the glazed look in Yuuri’s eyes, he sweeps the empty train with a blue gaze and leans in. “Time travel, Yuuri. I’m talking about time travel– jumping in time.”

“You’re crazy,” Yuuri bursts, panicked. Five minutes should do the trick. Five minutes back, and he can board a different train car, stay away from whoever this is, whatever fate has decided to throw at him.

“Don’t!” Viktor begs, and snags his wrist. “I’m trapped here. I was originally from the sixties– I got careless. First I was jumping five years, then ten, then twenty, before I returned to my own life. Fifty years,” he laughs hollowly, “and now I can’t jump back. I’ve missed my whole life. But you can help me.”

“I can only jump _30 minutes_ ,” Yuuri whispers, shamed and terrified and confused. “You–I can’t help you get your life back. I’m sorry, Viktor.”

“No,” Viktor says, and takes his hand. “You’re the one I need. You jump so _much_ , Yuuri, everyday. I’ve seen you, the last week. I know. At best I could jump once every six months. But now it’s been six months, and I can’t… I can’t.” 

Viktor’s whole life has been taken from him. He’s missed years and years. Now, in the future, there’s just pieces of him strewn about, wisps of memories.

“I do,” Yuuri realizes, “I want to help you.” Even if he isn’t confident that he can.

It’s a long year, with odd training, but at the end of it, he comes to Viktor.

“Can you jump?”

“I feel it,” the Russian admits, “I can time travel again.”

“That’s wonderful,” Yuuri tries to say, but instead it just comes out as a cut off warble, a note that sends his heart careening. “You should– jump, then.”

_Should I?_

Viktor Nikiforov disappeared one morning in 1963, and was never seen again.

Viktor Katsuki-Nikiforov, on the other hand, appeared in the spring of 2013, and never looked back.


	29. the difficult case of the wool scarf

There is a wool scarf on the metro, every morning at precisely 9am. Viktor calls it a wool scarf, and not a person wearing a wool scarf, because it is massive, and the wearer buries his entire face in it. All Viktor can see is messy dark hair peeking out from beneath a beanie, and the occasional flash of warm brown eyes.

It must be cashmere, or something equally expensive, because Viktor stares at it every day and quietly longs to walk over and cuddle down within it. Unfortunately, he can’t imagine the wearer allowing it. The one time Viktor took a step and beamed his friendliest smile ( _please tell me the scarf brand, please)_ the man had scuttled away, scarf fluttering in his wake.

“Did you try,” Christophe says slowly, rolling it on his tongue, “actually _speaking_ to him before you wandered over, smiling your megawatt perfect smile with your eyes locked on his scarf?”

“Of course,” Viktor says. This is not at all true. So the next time he sees the Mysterious Scarf on the metro, he approaches slowly. Gets out his map, as though he is some kind of tourist.

“I know you’re from here,” comes the soft voice. The brown eyes crinkle– in judgement? No, Viktor realizes, it’s amusement. “You’ve been riding the metro for two years, at this point, among other things.” 

So the other man has been noticing him, apparently. He fiddles with his expensive, perfect scarf. Viktor wants to steal it, to pair the soft blue with a brown ensemble, because it’s clear from the other man’s eyes that the colors go perfectly together… in fact, maybe the reason Viktor wants this scarf is precisely because it looks so comfortable on him. Natural. Drowsily perfect, plush, highlighting the soft curve of his tanned cheeks and his rosy cheeks. Viktor wants this scarf. Viktor needs this scarf.

“I really like your scarf,” he says. “Is it Burberry? Cashmere?” The other man huffs in laughter, pulls up at its end to run the fringe over Viktor’s bare hand, which is propped on a metrolink bar. His heart stutters at the sight, the sensation.

“It’s just regular wool. My okaa–my mom. She made it for me.”

“I understand,” Viktor says faintly. He does not like the scarf, he realizes. In fact, he very much wants the scarf off and gone. His lips would be flush against the other man’s, instead. Now that his mind’s on that track, he can hardly stop his mouth. “It’s perfect. Can I see what else your mother’s made?”

Definitely, definitely shouldn’t have said that. But the brown eyes widen with a little choking sound, and the scarf is pulled down. Holy– they work together. He’s the quiet guy that sits in the far corner and covers his face with a folder every time Viktor walks by his cubicle. He’s the guy Viktor tried to ask out to lunch five times after one very, very drunk holiday office party only to be brutally rejected before the words managed to get out.

“You, um? You– you’re coming onto me.” He says it like Viktor doesn’t know.

“Well, I really want your scarf on my coat tree.”

It ends up on Viktor’s bedroom floor instead.


	30. comes the sun/heartbeat sound/do birds still sing for you?

**Spring**

Viktor Nikiforov, who’s topped Most Eligible Bachelor lists. Viktor Nikiforov, who’s personally guided a whole generation through puberty. Viktor Nikiforov, whose allergies have him sneezing every two seconds on their visit to Hasetsu.

“Spring,” says Viktor, or that’s what Yuuri thinks he says. It’s hard to tell, with the congestion. Confident, sexy, he wipes at snot with his V.N. embroidered handkerchief. Sniffles pitifully. Sneezes again. Better than that Armani commercial in 2011, and he’s here in the flesh. “Yuuri." 

"I’ll get you allergy medicine,” Yuuri sighs, lovestruck. 

“Don leb me here to DIE alonn,” comes the response. “Wib the POLLEN.”

"What if you’re allergic to me?“ Yuuri teases. "I better leave the room.”

“No,” Viktor warbles. “Juhst because you mahke my heart beat and my throat clobe ub doesn mean I’m _allergic!”_ Yuuri takes advantage of the wet hacking that follows this protest to sweep the silver fringe from his forehead, press a kiss to it. He comes back from the drugstore with allergy meds, and Viktor’s favorite tea. His husband is on the phone with a sadistically pleased Yurio upon his return, or at least until Yuuri rubs at Viktor’s shoulders.

“You’re going to spoil him,” Yurio says darkly.

“It can’t get any worse at this point,” Yuuri admits meekly. Yurio agrees with a _get him through the season alive!_ , jabs to end the call. Viktor sprawls out on the couch, tips back two pills and holds out his arms for Yuuri to press into.

“Vitya, you must hate this time of year,” Yuuri says into his curving collarbone.

“So much,” Viktor agrees. He is smiling. Yuuri does not know why he is smiling. His shimmering eyes are watery, puffy, and as sadistic as Yurio is… Yuuri might be a bit sadistic too. “It’s awbul– could sleeb all day. Join me.” Briefly, Yuuri massages at the other man’s sinuses, and the blue eyes flutter shut. “Lobve Spring. And you.”

“Love you too,” Yuuri says softly. Most people would say the allergy meds have just kicked in, that he’s drowsy. Most people don’t know Viktor.

**Summer**

Yakov was always warning Viktor not to do anything dangerous– he had a whole list. No attempting a quad axel before he’d gotten the loop. No surprise overnight vacations. No dates at the rink, no teasing a young Yuri Plisetsky past the point of no return. No risks. Nothing. 

Viktor is certain that Katsuki Yuuri eating watermelon has just rocketed to the top of Yakov’s list.

Viktor’s husband licks, long, right from his elbow to the turn of his wrist, following an errant, shining pink trail of juice. Then another crunching, quenching bite. Scrunching his tan face, Yuuri leans to the side, puckers and blows out a single seed to the earth in a wet kiss. The entire display is far from etiquette. Far from _appropriate_. Sponsors really shouldn’t see it– _no one else can see it_. Viktor swallows at least five seeds from his own watermelon slice, and chokes.

“Do you not like watermelon?” Yuuri asks. When it’s this hot, the Russian in Viktor can’t help but die a little. When it’s this hot, Yuuri occasionally goes around shirtless, soft pudge of his off-season belly sloping and welcoming, and Viktor would probably die anyway.

“I love watermelon,” blurts Viktor. The air has to scrape around the pink chunk in his windpipe. Viktor doesn’t care. “I _love_ summer.”

**Fall**

Fall in Hasetsu comes slow, rasping leaves clinging to trees. There isn’t a day that Viktor doesn’t chase Makkachin through the raining reds and bleeding browns, isn’t a day where Yuuri doesn’t chase Viktor. They collapse into a pile of leaves together, wrassle at Makkachin’s leash while she sniffs at a stick a few paces away.

“What do you think we’ll be doing in 10 years?” Yuuri asks.

The response comes instantly, calmly sure. “Skating.” Yuuri rolls, buries deeper into the damp, earthy leaves. Underneath he discovers denim, warm. “Yuuri, darling, that’s my butt.” Yuuri doesn’t move, just plunges on:

“20 years?" 

"Skating. With our children.” Yuuri laughs, brushes his free knuckles over his husband’s cheek. 

“40 years?” He persists. Viktor smiles, response quick and easy. 

"Skating. Carefully.“

"And that’s what we’ll always be doing." 

"That will be the one constant,” Viktor corrects. Yuuri shakes his head with a knowing smile, hearing the crunch as he does so.

“Vitya, I know you mean to be romantic, but I’d also like our marriage and other things to be constant.”

“Ah,” Viktor says, sits up and drops three leaves in quick succession, spiraling down to brush over Yuuri’s cheeks. “But I want to love you differently, every day. To renew our love. To surprise you. My skating may lose that ability, but I don’t want to.” _Oh. Vitya._

“You surprise me every day, even with corny lines like that.” Viktor is staring off, blue eyes like the crisp, cool sky, so Yuuri says, “you always will.” In companionable quiet, they look to the colorful canopy above them, crumbling down. He doesn’t know how long they stay. It doesn’t matter. Finally Yuuri sits up, too, brushes off his back and Viktor’s with care. “Let’s go to the onsen, new husband. We have autumn sake, and I’m in the mood to play a drinking game.”


	31. little deuce coupe

I have driving headcanons.

-Yuuri is an incredibly conscientious and also frustrated driver. That twenty minutes of traffic? He could’ve done attempts #3027-#3030 of his quadruple salchow in that time. Why is the man in the car next to him looking directly at Yuuri and honking his horn while winking? Why is the woman in the car to his right applying makeup and occasionally fluttering her eyelashes at him? Yuuri will never know. Americans are strange. Cars are far more enjoyable, he thinks, when you’re in the backseat of one with your fiance.

-When he gets the chance to drive, Guang-Hong likes to reenact The Fast and the Furious, to the horror of his coach– he has a whole soundtrack to go along with it, thanks to a certain American. Leo’s tinkered with the speaker system in his refurbished, classic car until the bassline can vibrate the entire metal frame. 

-Viktor is a fairly laid back driver, who whips around corners with a delighted smile and never obeys the speed limit, at least when he’s in Russia. Living Legends don’t get tickets. But when he has road rage– oh, Viktor has road rage. A month or two before their wedding they take a road trip (Viktor’s going to be in a small space!!! With Yuuri!!! For several hours straight!!!) and a red sportscar cuts Viktor off, weaving dangerously close to Yuuri’s door, before flipping both of them off. “Take a picture of their license plate,” Viktor says calmly, and steps on the gas. Twenty minutes and several wrong turns later, they are not at their destination. They are in a mall parking lot. “Do you know,” Viktor hums cheerfully, “how a man like that is going to park?” The red sportscar sits at the far edge, across two spaces that aren’t supposed to be spaces. Viktor legally parks opposite him, and boxes the red car in. For evidence, he takes five pictures on his phone, writes a note he won’t let Yuuri read before dropping it on the windshield. “Do you want to see a movie? Oh, this one is only three and a half hours long. You get the tickets while I make a phone call?” After making out for 3.5 hours like two teenagers on a first date, they come back to the red sportscar being towed. “Oops,” says Viktor. Yuuri wishes he was surprised.

-Yurio hates driving. Like _hell_ is he going to trust a bunch of strangers in metal death machines. A system that gives Viktor Nikiforov a license is not a system Yuri believes in. “Get on my motorcycle,” says Otabek, and despite himself Yuri does. When they rev up to 45mph (the Kazakh obeys road laws), Yurio could be flying. “This is awesome!” He yells in Otabek’s ear, but it’s lost to the wind.

-Phichit drives an red Volkswagon Beetle, which he has nicknamed Tata. Every time he has a passenger, he forces them to play Carpool Karaoke or his own version of Cash Cab. “Oh no,” Phichit chirps when he sees the congested highway. Yuuri sighs. The car is at a standstill, which means it’s perfectly safe for Phichit to check his phone. “I hate traffic!” He says, or more accurately, tweets. Phichit, Yuuri thinks, is the sole person that enjoys traffic. 


	32. megamix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bunch of super short and sweet ones, smushed together

Let’s all have a moment of silence for Phichit Chulanont, social media master, who predicted Viktuuri happening the second Viktor jetted to Japan. I pity this poor genius, who probably tried to share his JUICY EXCITING NEWS/PREDICTIONS with other skaters only to be met with a fond reaction of “oh, yeah, of course” and Phichit’s like HOW IS EVERYONE SO CHILL ABOUT THIS.

And then, in Barcelona… the big Banquet Reveal goes down. Christophe just sighs, pats Phichit’s hand, and says “oh, cherie, we all knew that ship was sailing for months before you told us.” MONTHS.

And Phichit, who prides himself as a forward thinker, as the first distributor of good news and Twitter wisdom, just brokenly cradles his head in his hands.

“I thought I was the first,” he whispers, “I never even had a chance.”

* * *

You know who would actually probably be good friends? Guang-Hong and Yuri Plisetsky. I present to you:

PINK LEOPARD PRINT CURTAINS 

You should already be convinced, but there’s more. The evidence is very substantial.

They both like to hang with musical, cool guys, though I’ll openly admit Otabek is “dark and brooding” while Leo is more “calming sunshine.”

Finally, Guang-Hong and Yuri are both considered these tiny, sweet boys– some of the youngest at their level– but both are fierce, under a lot of pressure, and much more than meets the eye. Guang-Hong has canonically thought about murder and espionage, while I’m pretty sure Yuri P. muses about murder on the daily.

ALL I’M TRYING TO SAY IS. When they actually interact, I’m pretty sure Yurio’s going to dismiss marshmallow-soft, friendly Guang-Hong until he casually makes a reference to he and Yurio’s favorite bands or movies or something: Death Tiger Puma Blades. Supercool Jungle Explorer 4. Then, they’re off to the races! Their fans are delighted! Guang-Hong’s coach is terrified about the influence! Yakov is… really confused?

Guang-Hong figures out Yurio is kind of a jerk sometimes. He’s cool with it. Yurio figures out that Guang-Hong is genuine in what he says and does, and consequently becomes cool with him. They drag Otabek and Leo across international cities as a group of four, which is totally fine because Otabek and Leo just solemnly trade earsbuds while Guang-Hong and Yurio discuss (AHEM argue) the newest action flicks and who gets to wear leopard-print out to the club scene that night.

(Yuri wins a suspicious amount of these arguments. Guang-Hong may have leopard print curtains, but he also has clothing standards.)


	33. a grindrella story

Swiping together is just another pasttime for Phichit and Yuuri, like watching Hamtaro or Project Runway or Rocky Horror Picture Show. There are only two rules: you must make up a ridiculous life story for the person, and you must swipe left.

Yuuri has just broken the second rule. “I get distracted and look at Heidi Klum for two seconds, Yuuri! Two seconds, and you’ve swiped right on– on a _poodle_?”

“It was an accident!” Yuuri yelps. “But I wasn’t going to reject a dog, my finger just moved by itself–”

A cheerful tinkling interrupts. _It’s a match!_

Yuuri knows, even before Phichit begins tapping at his screen, that neither of them are going to ignore their morbid curiosity. Phichit scrolls to the next picture.

 _Holy_ , Yuuri thinks, and then he can’t think any more. “ _He_ matched with _me_?” Considering that they use Tinder for amusement, and not as an actual dating tool, Yuuri’s pictures are… less than flattering. Him and Phichit, goofing around. Snapchats captioned with things like _3 hamsters in 1 hand, so you know I can lift._ Heck, his bio is probably still “I like pole-dancing and eating my weight in pork.”

“Haha,” says Phichit, cheerfully, “you’re screwed. He’s definitely your type. You’re actually going to use Tinder now, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“We haven’t even messaged,” Yuuri protests, but he should really stop talking, because that’s when the first one comes in. 

_Don’t respond_ , Yuuri thinks, but… He can’t be heartless when there’s not one, but two hearts at the end of the message.

“I’m just going to,” he says.

“Uh huh,” is Phichit’s wise reply. Yuuri is already tapping at his keyboard.

“He’s probably not single.” Yuuri is already prepared for disappointment. “He’s probably looking for friends.”

“On _Tinder_?”

“Maybe he’s looking for a date for his dog.”

“I repeat: on Tinder?”

Yuuri continues to message Viktor, who is definitely searching for a date for his dog, for the rest of the day. And then the next. And the _next_.

“Oh my god,” says Phichit, “what is this? You’re having conversations about your hometowns? Your hopes and dreams? I thought all the kids nowadays just messaged wholesome things like ‘sup’ and ‘dtf?’ You little slut, Yuuri.”

Yuuri hides his face and his phone beneath a pillow, and continues to message Viktor. Yuuri may be the one to initiate a coffee date, but Viktor is the one who replies with his phone number so quickly that he must have copied and pasted it.

It’s Viktor, who stares brightly at him like Yuuri has sprouted wings or the personality of a movie star. But coffee gets cold, no matter how slowly you try to sip it. All good things must come to an end.

“Ha,” says Viktor, fiddling with his mug, “Christophe isn’t going to believe me.”

“What, did he think I was going to be a creepy criminal from the internet?”

Viktor waves a hand. “No, no, it’s just that he swore we’d never speak again.”

Yuuri looks up from his cold coffee. “…again?”

“I mean,” says Viktor, sounding perfectly reasonable and not like a crazy person, “after the picture you sent me, and the _long_ conversation we had, I kind of couldn’t get you out of my head?” He shrugs. “Christophe said that boys who messaged me on Grindr and then ghosted me would probably never talk to me again. But! I kind of downloaded a lot of dating apps? And before I knew it, I found you. It’s not fate, but I’m glad you were willing to match with me again.” This is followed by a practiced, eager smile. “Does that bother you?”

Yuuri’s brain would have to be functional, for him to be bothered.

“Grindr?”

“I mean, the picture you sent me, Yuuri… there was no way I could resist.”

“ _Uhm_ ,” is probably the last strangled noise Yuuri will ever make. “I… I don’t even have a Grindr?”

“Oh, not anymore? You don’t have to say that to make me feel better, Yuu-ri. I understand. Sometimes conversations die.” They’ve texted more in the last twenty-four hours than Yuuri has texted some friends in his lifetime.

“That’s not… ahhh, I sent you a picture?” Maybe drunken Yuuri had sent him a picture. Getting a Grindr profile sounds like something Drunk Yuuri would do. Apparently, there is little that Drunk Yuuri _wouldn’t_ do. Oh, god. Yuuri is _screwed_.

Viktor has a _picture_ of him. From _Grindr_. Maybe this is a shakedown. Maybe Viktor is here to threaten to bring Yuuri to the police. Maybe he’s going to tell Yuuri’s mother, oh god–

“It took my breath away,” Viktor sighs, “what’s his name?”

“I haven’t _named it_ ,” Yuuri hisses, mortified, but Viktor lights up, blue eyes sparkling, his hand moving towards Yuuri’s thigh.

“I could help you name him, if you wanted! I had _so_ many names for my poodle that I didn’t end up using. Here, let me pull them up, and we can see if you like any for your new puppy!”

Puppy. Yuuri’s puppy.

Yuuri needs to breathe, like his therapist has told him to. Breathe. “Viktor. Could you show me the picture? And, well, our conversation? And possibly… clarify what you mean by ‘I downloaded a lot of dating apps’?”

Any one of those things could pop the bubble of joy that’s beginning, hesitantly, to grow in his chest. Viktor snuggles up to him in their cafe booth, and lifts him up.

Viktor Nikiforov, as it turns out, can make even hookup apps romantic.


	34. Phichit and the Cup o China

Okay, so, I feel like there are a few possible Cup of China Victuuri experiences that Phichit could have had.

**A) Phichit is In The Know.**

“I kind of thought,” Phichit says, at their dinner after the free program to celebrate their medals, “that your explanation of how intimate you and Viktor’s relationship was… exaggerated? You’re kind of extra, after all, and you’ve been obsessed with him for half your life.”

“Oh,” hums Yuuri. “Is that so?” There’s a confident smile twitching onto his face, and a Russian glued to his hip. Phichit has since learned that when Yuuri says, _he’s into me, I mean it, he keeps touching me and we’re having conversations I never thought we’d have…_ what he really means is _my coach is in love with me and would give me a lap dance right now if this restaurant were slightly less crowded_.

“I’m really happy for you, though,” Phichit exclaims. “And I just want to say that I called it.”

**B) Phichit is In The Know and Katsuki Yuuri is definitely not**

“So,” Phichit says casually when Yuuri moves out onto the ice during their practice time. The short program is the next day. “I’m just going to congratulate you on catching your lifelong idol, and then I’ll teach you how to change your Facebook status to ‘in a relationship.’”

“What,” says Katsuki Yuuri.

“Oh my god,” Phichit hisses. “Did you not know you guys were dating? What about all those days you two went to festivals? The hugging? Him pining whenever you called me? You were always Facetiming me after your dates with him!”

“No no no,” Yuuri blurts, and streaks away as fast as his powerful thighs can take him. “You’re wrong!” Later, when they’re on the podium and Viktor and Yuuri have swapped saliva in front of a million people, Phichit smugly stares down at his best friend.

“This sounds bad,” he says, “but I also get a gold medal in being right.”

**C) Phichit had no idea! Victuuri was the surprise romantic subplot of his sports anime narrative.**

Or, at least, he had no idea Viktor was in love with Yuuri until he got to watch the sloppy drunk hang from his best friend, hiccuping and nuzzling into his shoulder over drinks and dinner. _What,_ he thinks to himself, smiling brightly, camera-phone ready. _How did I not hear about this. Why have Yuuri and I been trading stories about our pets? I am all-knowing. What the actual hell_.

“Take me back to my roooom,” Viktor begs wetly.

“Yeah, go back to his room,” Phichit emphasizes, smirking. “Together.”

“I’m really sorry for the inconvenience,” Yuuri tries to say grandly, but there’s a flush on his cheeks and his fingers are petting the top of Viktor’s head.

“Ten bucks says you guys get caught kissing by the media.”

“ _Phichit!”_ He’s scandalized, which Phichit thinks is a bit hypocritical, considering that Viktor has been mouthing at his neck in front of God and everyone for the last half hour.

 _Viktor’s loaded_ , Phichit muses to himself, watching The Kiss footage play for the millionth time on the sports station of his hotel TV, _I should’ve bet more than 10 bucks_.


	35. the golden snitch

Viktor is the best seeker at the school in over a hundred years. He’s talented, driven, and good at inspiring the younger kids. Head of House Yakov is immensely proud of him, even if he breaks curfew on occasion to sneak to the library, of all places. Typical Ravenclaw.

But every match against Slytherin in Viktor’s seventh year? It’s a mess.

Beater Katsuki is the most fierce and beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He swings, brutal grace, and Viktor can’t help but be captured (the scene at the Yule ball the year before hadn’t exactly helped, either). He asks the divination teacher if there’s any possibility of them being married someday, sweeps in to ask the younger man if he understands the Herbology homework (even though Viktor’s top of the class). Intently he practices an incredibly intricate but useless spell, which mostly produces tiny fireworks, and when it’s ready… ambushes Katsuki in a hallway. Katsuki screams.

“Go out on a date with me?” Viktor asks. Yuuri’s fingers are twitching, like he wishes he had his bat. _Please don’t reject me please don’t–_

Yuuri whips his head around desperately, as though another attractive Japanese wizard is going to apparate out of nowhere and be the one Viktor’s asking out instead. “Me?” A nod. “I know Ravenclaw team put you up to this, and it’s not funny. Don’t _do_ that.” Viktor, heartbroken, shuffles away and eats eight chocolate frogs while sobbing into Christophe’s lap in the Hufflepuff common room.

Their next match against Slytherin is a blood bath. In pursuit of the Snitch, Viktor smashes into Beater Katsuki and they spiral to the ground, barely hanging onto their brooms. There’s a very brief conversation while they lie in a crumped up heap. It’s hard to tell what happens after that.

“No fighting!” Madame Pomfrey screams. “Boys! Get off of each other!”

“I’m a hundred feet up in the air, and I can tell,” says Keeper Phichit with a smirk. “They’re _definitely_ not fighting.”


	36. the golden snitch

Viktor is the best seeker at the school in over a hundred years. He’s talented, driven, and good at inspiring the younger kids. Head of House Yakov is immensely proud of him, even if he breaks curfew on occasion to sneak to the library, of all places. Typical Ravenclaw.

But every match against Slytherin in Viktor’s seventh year? It’s a mess.

Beater Katsuki is the most fierce and beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He swings, brutal grace, and Viktor can’t help but be captured (the scene at the Yule ball the year before hadn’t exactly helped, either). He asks the divination teacher if there’s any possibility of them being married someday, sweeps in to ask the younger man if he understands the Herbology homework (even though Viktor’s top of the class). Intently he practices an incredibly intricate but useless spell, which mostly produces tiny fireworks, and when it’s ready… ambushes Katsuki in a hallway. Katsuki screams.

“Go out on a date with me?” Viktor asks. Yuuri’s fingers are twitching, like he wishes he had his bat. _Please don’t reject me please don’t–_

Yuuri whips his head around desperately, as though another attractive Japanese wizard is going to apparate out of nowhere and be the one Viktor’s asking out instead. “Me?” A nod. “I know Ravenclaw team put you up to this, and it’s not funny. Don’t _do_ that.” Viktor, heartbroken, shuffles away and eats eight chocolate frogs while sobbing into Christophe’s lap in the Hufflepuff common room.

Their next match against Slytherin is a blood bath. In pursuit of the Snitch, Viktor smashes into Beater Katsuki and they spiral to the ground, barely hanging onto their brooms. There’s a very brief conversation while they lie in a crumped up heap. It’s hard to tell what happens after that.

“No fighting!” Madame Pomfrey screams. “Boys! Get off of each other!”

“I’m a hundred feet up in the air, and I can tell,” says Keeper Phichit with a smirk. “They’re _definitely_ not fighting.”


	37. worst coaches ever

Anon prompted me: okay but please also consider: Yuuri coaching Minami and Victor coaching Yuri. They end up being potrayed as "rival teams" by the media but its all just ridiculous flirty banter between Victor and Yuuri which gets more and more suggestive every time they meet at competitions (meanwhile Yuri is screaming that they are the worst coaches ever)

Okay, Nonny, trust me. I have considered it. I have thoroughly, thoroughly considered it.

Basically:

–Vicchan never died, and Yuuri didn’t screw up the Sochi GPF. BUT ALSO drunk banquet shenanigans did not occur, and so Viktor never came to him, and they basically just turned into competitors for a few years (more on that later). Because of this, Yurio took longer to figure himself out, get invested in the Seniors, and possibly had a minor injury that set him back, etc. In the meantime, Minami finally hits his growth spurt. Three years later, and we have the start of this AU: Yurio’s 18, Minami is 20, and Yuuri has just retired at 27 and been asked (ahem: begged) by Minami to coach him. Yakov is trying to transition his students over to prep for his own retirement, so he tests out the idea of Viktor coaching Yurio (Lilia smacks him in the head for thinking this is at all a Good Plan). Both Minami and Yurio are the hot favorites for the gold.

–Minami spends half of practice at Ice Castle Hasetsu drooling over his idol, Yuuri, and Yuuri spends most practices with his face in his hands because Minami hasn’t forgotten a single factoid about him since he became a skater when he was 12. “Minami, no, you shouldn’t reference that skate, that was my dark past!” “Coach! Sir! My lord!” “ _Please_ don’t call me that.” “Didn’t you win gold at Worlds that year?” “Okay, I did, but–”

–At the beginning, Viktor spends half of practice “subtly” needling at Yurio to see how far he can push him and to try to grant him some humility, while simultaneously sending him on what Yurio likes to call _BS Spiritual Quests_. “How is babysitting Makkachin supposed to make me a better skater?” “Makkachin is the dog of a _champion_ , Yurio, if you have to ask then clearly you are not a talented enough skater to understand. Also, I’ll be back at midnight! Watch this choreography video while I’m gone!” 

–Hot Springs on Ice still happens after Minami releases a video of him and Yuuri skating side by side to _Stammi Vicino._ ”That bastard thinks he can do MY COACH’S ROUTINE?” Yakov blows a gasket. “Have you seen this, Viktor, your student’s run off to Japan! Control him!” “Oh _no_ ,” says Viktor cheerfully. “Don’t worry, Yakov, I’ll be responsible and go collect him.” Yurio bought the plane ticket with Viktor’s credit card, which he miraculously found lying out on Viktor’s front room table. Viktor definitely spent the last week playing the viral video on repeat to an increasingly aggravated Yurio. “What a surprise, ending up here!” He announces to Hiroko upon arrival, and flips open his trip itinerary on his phone to ask for her opinions. “You’ll never believe who showed up!” Minami exclaims to Yuuri, who frantically drags him into one of the onsen’s bathrooms and keeps him there for an hour.

–After Hot Springs on Ice, the media gets really amped up about the rivalry between Minami and Yurio. Minami does not realize it’s meant to be a furious rivalry, and excitedly shows numerous hungry reporters pictures of him and Yurio from their Juniors days. “Yeah, we’ve skated together since forever!” “BLOODY SKATING RIVALRY IS SIX YEARS IN THE MAKING,” the papers scream. Yurio, to deal with his Viktor-inspired anger, is often caught kicking over tables and flinging objects. “RUSSIA’S PRODIGY CAN’T CONTROL HIS FIERY PASSION OVER THE RIVALRY!” Eventually, they drag the coaches into it too, especially after Viktor and Yuuri make searing eye contact for a solid twenty minutes during Skate America. “COACHES JOIN BROILING RIVALRY BETWEEN PLISETSKY AND KENJIROU! OLD HATRED FLARES UP!” By the time the NHK trophy rolls around, it is downright ridiculous. “PLISETSKY FIRES HIMSELF UP BY COMING TO WATCH BITTER RIVAL, KENJIROU, IN THE NHK TROPHY!” This part is true. Kind of. “NIKIFOROV AND KATSUKI RUN OFF TOGETHER AFTER COMPETITION, PROBABLY TO… FISTFIGHT IN THE PARKING LOT!” Well, there were certainly bruises that developed after that encounter, so the media’s not totally wrong.

–By the GPF, there has been a slow realization among certain internet groups. “Look at how Katsuki and Nikiforov behaved around each other during their last few years of competition,” posts Katsudominate14 on Tumblr. This is accompanied by a flurry of screenshots of them together. “Are they holding hands in this one?” Meanwhile, Otabek is the only one that’s heard a whisper of the other developing issue with the ‘rivalry.’ _I HATE HIS GUTS_ , is typically how Yurio’s text messages start. _Look at his stupid face in this stupid interview! He’s so cheerful! Who the hell does he think he is to compliment my skating like that? He makes me want to throw him on the ground! And straddle him! And yell into his face from two inches away!_ Finally Otabek sighs, and sends Yurio a playlist in response. _This is for when you finally get him alone and start making out with him._ Yurio doesn’t respond for twenty minutes. _Crap_ , he texts, _I like him_. 

–After the GPF, when Yurio’s got his gold medal in hand and silver winner Minami is excitedly engaging him in competition about Worlds, Yurio yanks him around by his medal and yells “you’d better dance with me at the banquet!” Minami thinks being pulled around is surprisingly fun. They do dance at the banquet, but this is overshadowed by the media catching a picture of a tipsy Viktor and Yuuri kissing in the corner. When Yurio is questioned, he goes a bright, furious red and hollers “I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THOSE IDIOTS! THEY’VE BEEN FLIRTING ALL SEASON! I AM A GOLD MEDALIST! Ask me about skating!” When Minami is questioned, he curls up his cute little nose and laughs, “Oh, you didn’t know? Coach’s liked him since he started skating; Viktor was his inspiration.” Minami is Katsuki Yuuri’s number 1 fan. Nothing gets past him.

–The “rivalry” is disbanded. Yuuri and Minami start training in Russia the next year.


	38. red string of fate

Katsuki Yuuri has never put much faith into “fate.” If he left things to fate, rather than hard work and sweaty, gasping nights at the rink and ballet studio, he’d be an even worse skater than he is already.

Still, the idea is sweet. When they get home from the trinket shop where they bought the bright red string from a mysterious old woman, Yuuri plays with the thread spool in his pocket on the train ride home until Yuuko asks to see it, cuts off a tiny bit of it and ties it to his pinky.

“It’s just like the old legend!” She proclaims. Yuuko loves all things beautiful, and this means Viktor Nikiforov, axels, and romantic Japanese lore. “Where the red string of fate will lead you to your soulmate, where it’s supposed to lead you to somebody that you’ll make history with.”

They smile and laugh about it. Yuuri forgets to take the little string off before he tumbles into bed at the end of the long day.

When he wakes in the morning, the string isn’t short anymore. At first, in the drowsy haze Yuuri always wakes up to, this makes sense: it grew overnight, like hair. After he washes his face and clothes himself properly, this just makes him panic. It’s long, red as rubies, and extending tautly through the wall of his room. He tries to slide the string off his pinky, and his fingers wave through it like a crimson beam of light.

He tries to calmly go talk to his mother about it. Mari intercepts him in the hallway first. There’s a red string hanging limp and loose from her pinky, dripping across the floors of the onsen.

So Yuuri does not calmly talk to his mother about it. He tells no one at all. He has anxiety, he knows, and this must be it: he’s mentally broken. Usually it takes a skating competition to do that, not a school field trip to a trinket shop, but Yuuri isn’t going to question it too deeply. Nobody else can see the threads like he can. So he skates, he dances, and he waits for the red strings that loop around everyone’s hands to disappear from his sight.

They don’t.

Viktor Nikiforov hates being able to see them. He likes being surprised as much as he like surprises, and suddenly it’s not surprising at all when two of his Russian rinkmates confess to a secret relationship. When Yakov and Lillia start having marriage problems, Viktor already knows—he sees the red thread fraying, darkening, long before Lillia starts taking longer and longer trips out of Saint Petersburg.

No, nothing much is exciting anymore. Golden medals feel like a gaudy noose, tight.

The red string, at the Sochi GPF, feels it’s about to cut off his pinky. It _hurts_. And then, at the banquet, when he’s trying to distract Yakov so Mila can sneak a bit more champagne, he feels it _yank_.

Viktor looks. The red string has always gone off, infinite and incomprehensible, into the distance. Now it’s short, tangible, and being tugged on by a very, very drunk Japanese man. Knuckles white, he pulls on it again and again as he totters, fluidly drunk, into several spins, champagne bottle as red as the string in his other hand. It’s dragging Viktor’s heart out his pinky through his veins, splintering them as it passes through.

Viktor goes to him.

“I didn’t know I could do this,” Katsuki whispers, punctuating it with a giggle, “the thread’s _never_ let me touch it before.” Viktor blinks.

“You can see it,” he realizes.

“You haven’t told me that I must be drunk,” Yuuri murmurs, eyes widening and sparkling. “For saying that. Everyone else thinks I’m rambling. Rambling drunk.”

“You _are_ drunk.” He’s drunk. He’s beautiful. He’s Viktor’s.

Yuuri _tugs_ again, and Viktor stumbles forward without much thought about it.

“Dance with me?” Yuuri questions.

It should be predictable, that he falls in love while they dance, string vibrating and shortening to almost nothing as they clasp hands. Viktor has seen this happen, with others in his life, with others connected inextricably by the string. Viktor is surprised anyway.

———–

 _There’s a handsome foreigner in the onsen_.

Yuuri runs, and runs, and the last thing he expects, besides Viktor standing naked in the onsen, is that his string leads straight to the other man, blinding blood red through the pearly steam of the hot springs.

He could just be looking for a distraction, Minako says. Yuuri agrees. Yuuri thinks that Viktor may even agree, may think he’s here to temporarily coach a man who lets his anxiety strangle his already average skating abilities. But the string—the red string of fate, weaving between them—it promises something else. A simple promise: they’ll make history together.

He keeps this promise to himself. He knows it’s crazy.

———

Months later, when they’re lying side by side in bed, Viktor’s breaths even and deep in slumber, a sleepless Yuuri manages to wind the string around his finger and _pull_ experimentally.

Viktor moans. “Stop that,” he scolds gently, “Not everybody rolls out of bed at 10am. Some of us will be out running by seven and you’re making it _very_ difficult to get my beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need beauty sleep,” Yuuri responds automatically, and then, with a shivering realization, throws his leg over Viktor’s hip, straddles him and takes the champion’s face between his hands. Half lidded blue eyes greet him. “You can see the threads too. _Viktor_.”

Viktor puts their palms together, the ones with the strings attached, kisses Yuuri’s pinky tenderly. “I thought you already knew that,” he hums. “Now. Sleep, my nocturnal student.”

Yuuri does not sleep. He rolls over on the mattress, lets Viktor sleepily move to spoon him, and smiles helplessly into the dark.

————–

The cashier at the ring shop does not understand.

“We’ll take those,” Yuuri says firmly, pointing.

“They’re very small,” the cashier replies, baffled, “small, for wedding rings. Are you sure you…”

Yuuri lifts _the_ hand, points at one gloved finger. “They go on our pinkies.” The cashier starts to wrap the bands up, to tap at the register, and Yuuri feels a hand on his back. He can’t bear to look and see the expression on the other man’s face, not yet. “I’m sure,” he says, quietly. He feels a tug, light and experimental and loving, humming through his fingertip and his veins up into his heart. “I’m sure.”


	39. stall me

After the GPF, before Viktor jets off for his Nationals, Yuuri wants to hold a belated surprise birthday celebration. A birthday party for Viktor Nikiforov has to be a surprise, of course it does. However, Viktor is quite intent on spending every last moment together– PHYSICALLY AS CLOSE AS POSSIBLE.

“Stall him,” Yuuri hisses to Mari in rapid Japanese after somehow managing to escape Viktor for a few seconds. 

“Uh huh,” she replies, looking dubious. “And how do you want us to do that?”

_Yuuuuuuuri_ , he hears echoing through the hall.

“Vicchan’s already seen your baby pictures,” Hiroko muses, “And your trophy case. I’m not sure what else to use.”

“Maybe your fanfiction?” Mari adds in with a smirk.

“ _That doesn’t exist_.” …Anymore. He puts his face into his hands. “Maybe… maybe ask him for help with lunch? Maybe…”

“Don’t worry,” says Hiroko, “I have just the thing. I’ll distract him for at least half an hour.”

Throw in some Mari hijinks, Toshiya getting involved (time for father-son bonding rituals in the hotsprings! What, no, Yuuri’s not invited), and basically the Katsuki family each taking their turn with their adopted son.

Yuuri doesn’t even _remember_ most of the drawings he made when he was twelve and first discovered both Viktor Nikiforov and that doodling during the more mindless hours at school helped calm him. Luckily, he is too busy trying to figure out how to draw Makkachin made out of icing on top of a cake to realize the betrayal that is happening nearby.

There are a _lot_ of childhood drawings of Viktor– his hair, his blue eyes, them taking their poodles on walks together, rain and shine. Them, inexplicably next to each other in class. Them, together on the ice.

“He didn’t know you,” Hiroko admits, “and that shows? But he wanted to, Vicchan. For a long time.”

Viktor is heart-achingly aware of how Yuuri wants to really know him.

“Oh, Yuuri,” says a tearfully pleased Viktor. This is _before_ Yuuri even leads him into the decorated room of the onsen. Yuuri decides he’d rather not know.


	40. best in show

I mean… *sits and crosses legs* I’ve seen art for it and I could def see this being a dog show AU where they’re fellow showmen… ORRRRR

Viktor’s dog Makkachin was, objectively, the best dog. She had won all there was to win in obedience competitions, dog shows, beauty contests… Makkachin was IN COMMERCIALS. She has a pawprint on Hollywood Boulevard! Everyone loves Makkachin.

Everyone except Viktor’s new puppy, a baby poodle he purchased to help keep Makkachin young. Viktor is a showman, but Makkachin never had socialization issues. But Viktor doesn’t give up! He doesn’t give up on people, and he definitely doesn’t give up on poodles. It is not the Nikiforov way.

Unfortunately, the puppy specialist he takes his newest fluffchild to is objectively the hottest man. He hardly spares Viktor a second glance, but with the puppy he’s playful, commanding, and incredibly knowledgeable. Viktor’s heeling and begging for him, and he’s not even a dog.

“I need to see your home,” says puppy-specialist Katsuki after Viktor has detailed his woes over not one, not two, but _three_ expensive dinners. Viktor insisted. “To understand the dynamic your puppy experiences.”

“Yes, please come over for dinner and a tour of my bedroom,” says Viktor, because his mouth doesn’t have any training at all. Katsuki makes a strange noise, like a whining puppy, but does not say no. “Let me introduce you to Makkachin,” Viktor announces, after Makkachin has already almost shoved him to the ground. “Sorry. She only behaves professionally outside the home.”

“I know who Makkachin is,” says Katsuki, almost shyly, red on his cheeks. “But do you?”

“Do I… know Makkachin?”

“Behave professionally,” Katsuki clarifies, “within your home.” Viktor puzzles over this momentarily, before realizing that he has, well, hired Yuuri. He’s hired him, and Yuuri is a professional, and Viktor very unprofessionally wants Yuuri’s tongue in his mouth.

“No,” Viktor says, and luckily for him it comes out throaty and low. “I definitely… do not behave in my own home.” Yuuri clicks his tongue, all reproach, but the blush only spreads.

“I’ll have to observe this behavior.”

They raise Viktor’s new puppy together. Unsurprisingly, like Makkachin before her, she’s also best in show.


	41. anything but the vodka

Basically Yakov, like the proper Russian he is, decides he is going to try and get all of the crazy out of Viktor and Yuuri’s systems before the next skating season. How does he do this? He signs them up for alcohol basket shipments, gives them bar coupons, and in general provides unlimited alcohol to the Katsuki-Nikiforov household. Unfortunately, Yakov subscribes to a very specific type of alcohol.

“I,” says Viktor, while carefully adjusting the ribbon on their latest basket, “don’t really like vodka.” He says this like it is a deep, dark secret. He has sequestered Yuuri in their bedroom, and carefully looked out every window. When a police car passed by earlier, he jumped, as though they’d burst in and arrest him.

“I know,” says Yuuri. “You like beer. And those sugary, colorful drinks they have specials on at bars.”

“Yakov is trying to CONVERT ME,” Viktor whispers. “I’m not a true, stereotypical Russian son. I have to do this, Yuuri. I have to prove I can take… the vodka.”

“Please,” Yuuri says, thinking of both his liver and his dignity. “Anything but the vodka.”

*insert many drunken hijinks here*

*insert some variant of the Hangover here*

“Are you ready to have a nice, quiet skating season?” Yakov asks his star skaters, when they arrive to the first in-season practice.

“Ready for anything except another overnight stint in jail,” they agree. Apparently, being famous and beautiful does not prevent arrest for running around half naked and giggly on vodka, _possibly_ defacing public property.

Yakov does not say he is _proud_ of Viktor, but he does stop sending them vodka and sends them an old stash of Viktor merch, instead. (and he tells them to never go to jail again).


	42. accidental baby acquisition

COLLEGE AU.

Yuuri doesn’t know, exactly, why a _college psychology course_ has a high-school home economics “pretend this bag of flour is your baby” assignment, but he does know that Viktor Nikiforov makes for a great baby daddy.

“We have to show the child,” says Viktor, linking arms with Yuuri and staring down lovingly at their cheap and squishy bag of flour. “That its parents love each other and the baby VERY MUCH.” Yuuri’s heart is fluttering, his brain is exploding, and he leans into Viktor Nikiforov and tries to appear normal.

Yuuri does not know why Viktor wanted to be partnered with _him_ , of all people, but he’s not complaining. Viktor is funny, and sweet, and thinks spending a ridiculous amount of time with Yuuri in the next week “sounds perfect” to him. And things were perfect!

Until, that is, they pushed up the hood on their baby carriage to check on their bag of flour and realized it was _not_ a bag of flour.

“Oh my god,” says Viktor, “we made a baby.”

Yuuri chooses to ignore how very appealing that sounds, and instead hyperventilates, “did we accidentally steal a baby?!” They’re on a picnic at a public park, and Yuuri doesn’t THINK he’d planned on stealing someone’s child, but who’s going to believe him? Yuuri’s going to go to prison before he graduates. Snagging the bottle of champagne Viktor had brought, because apparently _it goes perfectly with the homemade sandwiches_ , he nervously chugs a little. Yuuri had already been nervous about this outing– a picnic in the park seems suspiciously like a date– and this pushes everything over the edge.

Viktor is just cooing at the baby. In Russian. Yuuri has to chug a little more champagne.

“We need to find her guardians,” Yuuri blurts. And this is how what Viktor Nikiforov had dubbed Cute Outdoor Date #3 with YUURI transforms into an episode of Criminal Minds, complete with interviews, sniffer dogs (Makkachin is a sniffer dog, okay), and hypotheses as to how the switch happened. Much romantic fun is had. 


	43. the vines that entertwine our lives

This is a Phichit-centric fic, and it is actually about Vines. It’s… *hangs head* it’s a seungchuchu. I hope you’re happy, people that have involved me in the seungchuchu life.

“I can’t believe,” says Phichit over drinks one night with several other skaters, “that Vine is no longer operational. Where… where do I put my six-second segments?”

“On Snapchat and Twitter, like everyone else,” Viktor explains, not unkindly. “We look forward to seeing them.”

“NO,” says Phichit determinedly, “I… I am going to bring back Vine. FOR THAILAND.” Phichit may or may not have had several glasses of Wine, which is fueling his love for Vine at the moment.

However, the next morning, his feelings and the twenty text messages he sent to known computer scientist Seung-Gil still exist. Phichit, almost embarrassed but not quite, scrolls through his messages with the Korean and assumes his idea was rejected.

It was not. Apparently, Seung-Gil doesn’t want to wade through Twitter to find his favorite dog clips. _Too many people_ , Seung-Gil texted, which is a thought Phichit rarely has. _Not enough dogs_.

With both their programming skills (what do you think Phichit’s in school for?) they construct a tentative skeleton for a revamp of the Vine website over several months. This involves way more Skype calls than it needed to, and a lot of texting.

They contact Twitter. Twitter is… surprisingly open to the idea. The preliminary code is taken, and in another while, the website goes up.

Phichit’s first new Vine is three seconds of a dog dressed in a hamster costume– to lure Seung-Gil, of course– and three seconds of Phichit grinning and saying, _please date me, Seung-Gil?_

Seung-Gil links him a video in response. It’s on Youtube– twenty minutes long, and an intensive pro and con list of their possible relationship. …it’s mostly pros.

“I would be honored to date you,” says Seung-Gil on a Vine, which he then promptly deletes. Yeah, Phichit thinks, this was all worth it.


	44. midnight sun

Anyway, this would be a fic about the White Nights festival in Saint Petersburg, which if anyone hasn’t heard of it (I hadn’t) seems to be an explosive celebration of culture, dance, art, and music. Viktor and Yuuri, as resident celebrities and Lilia’s approved representatives, get chosen to participate in the festival. 

Tickets to the event have to be booked months in advance, and even being part of the show, Viktor and Yuuri had to purchase passes to other portions of it. In the sky, the sun burns in the peaceful pool of the sky– soft twilight is the darkest it gets. Yuuri has never experienced this before. But it’s growing hard to tell if the experiences he has now are magical because they’re new, or if they just take on that quality because it’s Viktor who presents the experience to him.

“What’s your favorite part of the White Nights?” He asks when they return from the festivities, sated and ready for quiet. The sun is still casting light over the sky.

“Come to the bed and I’ll show you,” Viktor whispers in his ear. Even with all the lights off and only the window wide open, it’s easy to see every line of Viktor’s body. “Closer, Yuuri,” Viktor beckons. Yuuri goes. He’s curled up next to Viktor, and when lips come to whisper in his ear, he shudders in near excitement.

“Yes?” He breathes. “Will you… show me now?”

“Right now,” Viktor promises huskily. He rolls over to the nightstand, and–

Comes back with a book. “Viktor.”

“Yuuri, look! You can read with _natural light_ even in the dead of the night! It’s called a midnight sun. Isn’t it amazing?”

“You’re,” Yuuri laughs, puts his face in his hands before deciding to take Viktor’s in his palms, instead. Peppering kisses up and down his fiance’s long nose, he giggles, “you’re amazing. I love you.”

At the next White Nights Festival, under the fireworks and the gentle sun, they marry.


	45. potya!!! on ice

I LOVE U this is very cute

“No pets at the rink!” Yakov snaps at Yurio when there is a suspicious bulge underneath the teenager’s jacket. Yakov saw Viktor Nikiforov through his teenage years– nothing fazes him. NOTHING. The next time he sees Yurio, the bulge is gone. Unfortunately, Yakov assumes that if he can spot one prodigy lugging his hundred-pound furbaby around in his team Russia jacket, he can spot another moving his considerably smaller cat. Yakov is wrong.

Viktor and Yuuri are practicing their pair skate– when are they not practicing their pair skate, honestly, it’s just an excuse to make eyes at each other during practice– and Yurio knows just what to do.

The cat comes out of his jacket. The cat goes above his head, twirls around with him in the most romantic dance anyone has ever seen Yurio perform. Even Viktor and Yuuri stop their daily mating ritual and stare, astounded. Stammi vicino continues to play, accompanied now by the pleased voice of a cat.

“Stammi viciiiiinYOOOOOOWL… Quella che fa per MEEEEOOWWWW”


	46. reasons my husband is crying

A list of things about Yuuri. Obviously, Viktor leaves off the parts where it was serious, upset crying.

-He took his ring off to cook dinner and I put it on my left ring finger and said “now we’re married twice”

-Makkachin brought three butterflies into our house on her nose

-He was drunk and someone removed him from a support pole in the bar

-Minami sent him a collage of his skating photographs

-The triplets started middle school and sent a card to their godfather

-He tried to explain the plot of My Neighbor Totoro while hungover

-One of the hotel bathrooms on our trip to Italy had fluffy hand towels and an ivory tub with two shower-heads

-A child approached us dressed in a ballet tutu and promised to be as beautiful as him

-He told someone swans could be gay and they told him about a mated pair of male penguins that successfully hatched and raised a chick

There is also a list called “reasons my husband is laughing” and these are the first few entries:

-One of his smaller shirts looks like a crop top when I wear it

-Lilia Baranovskaya had a seagull poop on her shoulder and regally said “shit”

-Yurio tried to egg our house but ended up bringing the eggs inside and helping us make katsudon with them 


	47. hold on tight, I'm right here

From the moment Yuuri looked to the sky and saw that metal hunks could fly, rocketed by fire and held aloft on wobbling, shiny wings, he knew he was going to be a pilot. Everyone used to say humans would never take flight, and everyone was wrong. Yuuri likes defying gravity. Likes defying everything else, too, even his own expectations for himself.

Of course, his copilot for the long flight across the Pacific happens to be Viktor Nikiforov. How is he supposed to fly an airplane, when Viktor is sitting there? Viktor was made for flight– all cloud-silver hair and sky blue eyes, a storm in every movement. “Cruising altitude,” he announces, eyes darting down to the altimeter. His hand comes to rest on Yuuri’s arm, and it may as well be a bolt of lightning from the sky. “At ease, co-pilot. We’re good for a few hundred miles.”

“There’s rough weather ahead,” Yuuri says, because he can _feel_ it.

“Well,” says Viktor, smile losing its sharpness, “the IFU swore we were good to fly today. I did try to argue. I appreciated you backing me up.”

“Anyone that looked at the radar would’ve,” Yuuri protests quietly. Viktor’s hand, on his arm, has him shivering. “I think we should re-route ourselves, if possible.”

They don’t get the chance. The storm comes in impossibly quick, and with the ungodly, terrifying screech of metal they lose an engine.

The plane is going down. 

The distress call they send out is hopefully not lost to the raging wind and tumultuous sea, but Vikor and Yuuri? They are. Yuuri’s always been a swimmer, though– he pushes through the waves, struggles with his life jacket. “Viktor!” He screams into the wide expanse of ocean, the remains of the ship. “VIKTOR!”

The silver hair is there, on the crest of a wave that crashes into him. “Hold on tight,” someone says, and Yuuri isn’t sure if it’s him or his co-pilot. “I’m right here. I’m right here.”

They must hold on, because when he washes up on a beach with salt and sand sharp in his mouth, Viktor’s still with him. Other passengers are already straggling about– one’s even climbing for… coconuts? Yuuri can see him, all blonde hair and a drenched steward outfit, lined up against the calming sky.

“We’re on an island,” Yuuri whispers. “We’re… stuck on a tropical island.”

“I wanted to spend more time with you,” Viktor sighs, sitting up and hacking up saltwater in a way that’s still unexpectedly attractive. “Though this isn’t what I envisioned.”

“You wanted to spend more time with me?” Says Yuuri. But Viktor peels off his white button-up, runs a hand through his bedraggled hair. Yuuri just survived a near-death experience, and this feels like another. Or maybe he didn’t make it, and an angel has come for him.

“Come on,” says Viktor. “I bet Yurio is already fashioning weapons. I’ll have to start making a grass skirt.”

They’re going to die in the uncharted wilderness, on a tropical island. Yuuri laughs anyway.

AKA, the Cast-Is-All-Trapped-On-A-Tropical-Island AU! It’s very exciting. Christophe tries to start a nudism trend. Yurio stabs people with a wooden spear. Georgi talks to a coconut. Couples make out on the beach in the waves, a la From Here to Eternity and Grease, and overall it basically becomes a vacation once they surpass the whole “we crashed and are trapped on an island” thing


	48. viktor on ice

We have two options: an actual ice show both produced by and starring Viktor Nikiforov, which is 1000% dedicated to his amazing fiance, which newspapers have called “inspiring and groundbreaking but also EXTREMELY TMI” or a canon-verse AU!

“You’re off the ice,” says Yakov, and Yuuri slaps a hand over Viktor’s mouth before he can begin to disagree.

“Go home,” he says to Viktor, soft. “There’s an ice pack in the freezer for you to use. And you are not doing ANYTHING with that knee for another three days, at least.”

“Anything?” Viktor challenges, just a bit too sweet. Yuuri is both foolish and stubborn enough to reply _yes_.

He ends up carrying Viktor wedding-style all over the apartment, in between certain… activities, which involve Yuuri putting in all the work. He will never admit that these are some of the best days of his life.

And when Yakov says “you’re off the ice” to Yuuri, a few years later, those are the rest of the best days of his life.


	49. cream of the crop

OH IT’S A FARMER AU FOR SURE. It’s probably a Harvest Moon AU, let’s be real, I played that game a LOT. Wooed all the ladiez and, y’know, I probably should’ve been more aware of how very happy I was to do that.

Guys, if someone wrote this for me, my crops would be flourishing.

Viktor and Yuuri are BITTER RIVALS and by bitter rivals I mean are bitterly sad that they are not yet dating. Both of them raise crops and cows and pigs, and have their beloved poodles help out with herding the chickens. Viktor has his prize blueberries and watermelons and strawberries; Yuuri has his blue-ribbon-winning pigs and eggs. They spend every festival making eye contact across the town square, so heated it could bake a loaf of bread. Christophe, the town baker, is delighted by these events. Yakov, who is the town mayor, is very tired of it.

“Do something,” he orders Phichit, who is the town’s well-spoken minister (of the Harvest Goddess, or something).

“You want me to marry them?” He clarifies.

“ _What?_ No! You’re Katsuki’s best friend, DO something.”

Thus, the Harvest Goddess church begins a community garden. Between farm work, Viktor drops by and tills the soil and drops in seeds– Yuuri rides over his horse, which won all the races last spring, and watches Viktor work it. The soil, that is. Viktor is working the soil.

“I could… help,” he offers one day, and then they’re down on their knees in the earth together. As everything begins to grow, so do they, and before they know it Yuuri’s popping blueberries into Viktor’s mouth with his hands, tickling him with the brush he used to use on his horse. In retaliation, Viktor tosses him over his plaid shoulder, offers him sweet berry wine.

“Something is DONE,” Phichit declares at the next town festival, where Yuuri and Viktor are no longer making heated eye contact across the square. In fact, Viktor and Yuuri are not even attending the festival. “I can hear wedding bells ringing.”

“You’re crazy,” Yurio snaps.

“No, literally, I can hear bells ringing. I think they’re making out in the tower again.”


	50. don't take love off the table yet

If you liked To Wine and Dine, all about classy fine French dining, you’ll adore ‘Don’t Take Love Off the Table Yet,’ the American Competitive Eating AU! Viktor ‘Heartmouf’ Nikiforov and Yuuri ‘Feelings Are Delicious’ Katsuki square off against one another! There’s the Fried Chicken Basket of China, the Rostelecom Roasted Rib Rumble, and many more.

“This isn’t an actual food battle,” Yakov barks, “you don’t need to watch videos of him eating to learn his TECHNIQUE.”

“I need it for reasons,” says Viktor, and the reasons are that watching Katsuki put ten hotdogs in his face at once makes Viktor’s heart stutter a little. “What can he not do with his mouth,” Viktor whispers. Yurio shoves a piece of pie into Viktor’s dropped jaw and enjoys the slight choking that happens.

Somehow, in this AU, they both live in Detroit because *mumble mumble*. It turns out that they work out at the same gym, too, which is why Viktor can’t stop having dreams of licking whipped cream off of Yuuri’s subtle abs. Times are hard for Viktor. 

One day, Yuuri’s massive water bottle goes empty during a workout. Water is a competitive eater’s most important tool, and Viktor recognizes it is HIS TIME. He has been bringing three water bottles to the gym for this very purpose.

“Uh,” says Yuuri, when Viktor approaches faster than he can elegantly rip his way through five ears of corn on the cob. Despite the initial awkwardness, they finally settle into a conversation. Food strategies, prep strategies, their interests and, delightedly, their dogs (not hotdogs, poodles).

“My mouth is yours,” Viktor tells him, honestly, at the end of their first discussion. He’s going to be coaching him in competitive eating techniques, so this is reasonable to say. “Use it how you see fit.”

“OKAY,” Yuuri chokes out before tottering off. Yeah, things are about to get a lot happier for both of them.


	51. and I swear that I'll always paint you the golden days

“Jiji,” their grand-daughter insists, “show me the pictures.”

“Show her the age-appropriate pictures,” their son adds, in rapid Russian, which their granddaughter is only vaguely familiar with at this point. In response she pouts and plots all at once, a stunning miniature of Viktor Nikiforov.

Beaming, Viktor pats his lap, and she clambers up to join him on their very soft couch.

“Careful with grandpa’s knees,” Yuuri warns. Even at their old age, when everything hurts, Yuuri still worries. Especially in bed, when Viktor would rather focus on other things.

On their holographic tablet screen, he watches as Yuuri leans over and flicks through the photographs. First: Yuuri, dancing with–

“Grandpa Plisetsky?”

“Oh, yes. Sweetheart, be sure to ask Grandpa Plisetsky ALL about his dance battles with your Jiji.”

“I didn’t know he wear suits!”

“He wore worse than that. I remember–”

“ _Dad_ ,” their son groans, “I’d prefer to keep the in-laws talking to me.”

“Yelling at you is talking,” Yuuri interrupts calmly, and swipes to the next set of pictures. “And here’s the GPF from the next year. Oh, and the one after that.”

“Why do you wear the same necklace all the time?”

“That’s his gold medal, baby, it’s a different one in each photograph.”

It’s a blur, from then on, banquets and parties across the years– some parties they have to skip showing their grand-daughter all together. When she begins to fall asleep, chubby fingers wobbling as she tries to raise them to touch the floating pixels of decade-old photographs, their son whisks her off. He squeezes Viktor for five minutes, exchanges a brief but emotional hug with Yuuri, and then they’re gone.

Viktor and Yuuri aren’t done looking at photographs.

“Your golden days,” Viktor murmurs, squeezing their fingers together.

“You know,” Yuuri replies, smile not as subtle as it used to be, “our eldest grandchild is getting married, and has graciously invited us to the afterparty despite the warnings of her parents. Perhaps our golden days aren’t over yet.”


	52. it started out with a kiss (how did it end up like this)

Oh, who am I kidding, this would totally be a Vicchan-didn’t-die scenario, where Yuuri takes bronze and then, during Viktor’s equally romantic and lonely exhibition at the Sochi GPF, somehow finds himself out on the ice. Think of that time when Viktor first performed “Eros,” and Yuuri just, WHAM, teleported out there with the strength of his desire.

“Someone get that fan off the ice!” Someone shrieks, because Yuuri is wearing his glasses and a very bulky scarf. However, for this one person, there are twenty others that whisper,

“Is that the bronze medalist from Japan?”

“Hello,” says Viktor, and flings off the scarf, and takes his hand. Yuuri’s glasses go– for once, he doesn’t care where his glasses are.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, as they gain speed, “I don’t know how this happen– AHHH, okay, okay!” He is pushed into an impromptu spin, and hears words meant only for his ears:

“You dared to take the ice with me. Behave like it, won’t you?”

Viktor, charismatic and magical as he is, goes along with the new addition to his routine. Yuuri, fanboy that he is, knows the routine well enough to skate a shoddy facsimile of it at Viktor’s side. They screw up, a bit, which is fine– nobody performs a pair skate well on their first try. They are still Viktor and Yuuri, however, so after the first ungainly swerve to avoid an accident they each try twenty times harder, with all the drive of two hypercompetitive athletes. 

Overall, it is the best skate of both of their lives, because they do it together. Their final pose ends up with Yuuri, dipping Viktor– and Viktor, reaching up to press an elated kiss to his cheek. When Yuuri scurries off of the ice and refuses to make eye contact afterwards, Viktor throws a fit– meaning, he smiles perfectly for photos, verbally nips at Yakov, and riles up Yuri Plisetsky. Yuuri sees Viktor’s eyes on him at the banquet, and makes a beeline to the champagne table. The rest is history.

The media has a field day. Yuuri moves up his flight back home to a punishing 6am in the morning, and Viktor doesn’t get the chance to snag him.

During the exhibition at Worlds, JJ takes the ice with Viktor, and Yuuri sees red. Jealousy. He’s _jealous_. The sharp pangs of this last for only a few moments, until Viktor graciously escorts JJ from the rink.

“Well?” He calls, and the music is playing but Viktor’s not moving, still.

“Yuuri,” Phichit whispers, awed, “I think? No, I’m _sure_ he wants you.”

“That makes no sense!” Yuuri hisses. Then, he locks eyes with Viktor, who gestures impatiently to the ice. “Oh my _god_ , how did it end up like this.”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Phichit says, and shoves him forward, “I know you’ve been practicing his exhibition since the last GPF.”

It turns out that Viktor has been practicing sharing the ice with him, too. 


	53. coffee and anxiety

Welcome to the world of caffeine-induced anxiety, which is actually a thing. Surprise!

Most people assume that Viktor runs purely on force of will and whatever unholy contract he signed with the devil to skate _that well._ This is just because most people don’t wake up at the awful, early hour required to see Viktor before coffee.

Yuuri gets to live with him. The reason Viktor wanders the apartment in his sleepwear– the nude– in the morning is because he can’t manage to put on clothes. Rolling out of bed blearily, Viktor _almost_ forgets to tuck the covers back in around Yuuri and Makkachin. But he doesn’t.

Mmm. Coffee is good. Not worth getting out of a bed that has his two loves in it, but it’s his turn to make breakfast, so. When Yuuri drags in, an hour later, he hops to sit on their marble counter, muscular legs swinging.

“Genmaicha?” Viktor asks pleasantly, and Yuuri nods. “No coffee today?” A shake of the dark head, coupled with an amused smile. Yuuri never has coffee. Viktor, on the other hand, has a fancy electric frother. A genuine French press. “Phichit said your ability to make it through college without caffeine was impressive.”

“That’s just because Phichit doesn’t consider black tea caffeinated,” Yuuri murmurs.

“I told him you were too sweet for the bitterness of coffee.” Viktor accepts an Eskimo kiss for this, which he readily admits is the reason why he said it.

“I actually like coffee,” Yuuri says, and swings his legs again, ankles bumping lightly at the lower cabinets. Viktor says nothing. This is an aspect of conversation with Yuuri he had to learn: patience. So instead of pushing, he starts brewing tea. “But it’s not… a good idea for me to drink it?”

“Because it’s a laxative,” Viktor concludes grimly, and Yuuri bites his lip to barely contain a laugh.

“No!” He rubs his hands on his legs. The humor drains from him far too quickly. “It, uhm, is bad for my anxiety. I’m already…” he gestures vaguely in the air. “Already high-strung, so imagine me with more stimulation.”

Yuuri’s prone to blushing, but he doesn’t blush at this. He seems withdrawn, contemplative. As though every time he mentions _anxiety_ , it’s another tally mark on an unseen count, one step closer to Viktor realizing he doesn’t want to deal with him. Viktor’s stomach twists, tosses at the thought.

“I like to stimulate you,” Viktor says, “just not in that way.” There’s the blush. Viktor had missed it, in the short time it was hiding. “Thank you for telling me. Genmaicha,” Viktor finishes, handing him the mug. Yuuri doesn’t look him in the eye, not quite yet, but the drawn look is gone. “It still needs another minute, okay?”

“Okay,” Yuuri agrees, face tilted into the rising steam. “Tea and coffee now. Stimulation later.” 

Viktor doesn’t know why he bothers drinking coffee. It’s supposed to wake him up, get him out the door.

Most rest days, he just ends up back in bed anyway.


	54. silvertongue

OKAY SO ENVISION a kind of My Fair Lady situation! But with a lot of twists. Viktor specializes in public speaking– in training politicians, company CEOs, etc– and language skills. He has a PhD in like 3 languages. His English, Russian, French, and like two other languages are fan-effing-tastic. 

At a corporate party, he meets a nervous and stuttering Katsuki Yuuri. Viktor’s facial memory, despite his talent for socializing, is that of a face-blind goldfish. “So how long have you worked here?” He asks, because _oh_ this man is cute, and maybe Viktor can persuade the CEO to give him his number. Who is Viktor kidding– of _course_ he can persuade the CEO to give him his number. He knows exactly the persona and the enunciation to use.

“I don’t…. work here,” says Yuuri, and Viktor watches his hypotheticals go up in smoke. “My company has, umm, a c-contract?” 

“With a fortune top 500 company? You clearly made the right choice with your employment.” He nudges up a little closer, and thus gets to observe as the man frantically eyes his empty champagne glass. 

“Lucky me, having this job still.” The words are strangely dark– but Viktor forgets them, far too easily, as Yuuri snags three flutes of champagne from a passing maitre-d’.

Three hours later, Viktor is the closest to plastered he’s been in a while in public, silver tongue melting. “You’re so– _inspiring_ ,” he hiccups. “You talk as smooth as a _devil_ , Yuuri!”

“That’s because his company shows no mercy,” says Christophe, who is not as drunk as Viktor wishes he was.

“His company?” 

Viktor has to learn quickly. My company=Yuuri’s company=the company that Yuuri _owns_.

“MY company,” Yuuri says, “donates 10% of our income to charity. You should see it, Viktor! Come visit! Teach me English! Teach me… powerpoints!”

Viktor hates Powerpoint. He still shows up at YT America’s headquarters in Detroit, where Yuuri flings a whole sheaf of papers into the air at the sight of him.

…They might have a lot to work on, Viktor admits. But that raw charisma, that English which is so close to refined… Viktor is going to shape it. 

Also, he’s in love with him, but if Yuuri is going to pretend that hasn’t already happened, Viktor will tone it down.

(Viktor does not tone it down)

“Honestly,” says Yuuri, when they’re curled up together after a particularly terrible meeting, “if I don’t get at least three more contracts before the end of the year, I’ll have to return to Japan in disgrace.”

“Do you even speak Japanese?” Viktor asks, because he’s started to wonder. All of Yuuri’s business partners are American, but there’s the occasional private phone call…

Yuuri laughs. “I’m _from Japan_ , Viktor, did you think I was a second gen?”

“But– your accent?”

Yuuri smirks. “What accent?”

_Exactly._

“I moved over when Yu-Topia–” only the most exalted hotel series in the Eastern hemisphere ”–needed to branch out to the States.” The explanation is not helping. “But I’ve been struggling. Building up a company from the ground is different here than in Japan. I refuse to go back to my family’s company with this kind of progress.”

He makes a face. Viktor has a heart attack.

“You have a whole chain of top hotels in the States! With… with world famous spas! You have doggy spas for Makkachin, for Christ’s sake, I refuse to stay anywhere else when I’m on business trips…”

“Nothing the Hiltons haven’t done before,” says Yuuri, and Viktor is an expert on body language but it is _still_ impossible for him to believe that, with those unwavering eyes and guileless face, Yuuri isn’t lying.

“You need a vacation,” Viktor declares. Apparently, his vacation to be Yuuri’s adviser is not enough of one for both of them.

“Vay…cay…shun,” Yuuri sounds out slowly, curiously.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Viktor fusses, taking his face in his hands. “Yuuri! You’re worse than me!”

“No I’m not,” laughs Yuuri, with a kiss to the tip of his nose. Viktor is still frowning. “…I know what a vacation is. I also know that it’s great to own hotels in paradise. So when I get my three contracts, where do you want to go?”

They end up going to a tiny onsen in Japan, which is still occupied by its multi-millionaire owners. 

Viktor couldn’t have asked for a better vacation.


	55. every time

Thousands of routines and habits are enshrined in Yuuri’s skating life. The night before competition, he rarely sleeps– in the hours before a competition he panics and stretches himself thin– in the minutes before a competition he listens to his program music and tries, desperately, to breathe. There are transitions, of course. From the night to the hours before, Yuuri pretends to get up. Texts Celestino to assure him he’s awake at a good hour, and isn’t going to oversleep because of jetlag. And from hours to minutes, Yuuri has always done the same thing: he calls Mari.

“Tell Yuuri good luck!” 

He doesn’t know how Mari manages it. With treats, or training, probably. Yuuri doesn’t care. All he knows is that, without fail, Vicchan spurs him on.

At Skate America, before Yuuri somehow slid into a silver medal, Vicchan had yipped cheerfully down the line for five minutes straight, until there was finally shuffling and Mari laughing, “don’t lick the phone!”

Hiroko and Toshiya had sent him plenty of omamori, in that first year away from home. It hadn’t taken long before they realized that a phone call or text of Vicchan, fleecy belly up, paws wiggling in the air, was an amulet of luck in itself.

Vicchan was Yuuri’s omamori, more powerful than sleep, than figures for hours in the dead of night. Vicchan was home and hope and a reminder of everything Yuuri had dreamed of doing for the first time, at twelve. Vicchan was everything.

And in just one phone call, he was nothing, too.

“I’m ready,” Yuuri had breathed into the phone in Sochi, as soon as Mari picked up. She hadn’t, the first time he’d called, or the second. She’d never done that before, not when they the onsen was swamped with customers, not when his competition happened at 3am in Japan. She and Vicchan were always there.

_Tell Yuuri good luck!_

“Yuuri,” she’d whispered, and in the background, silence. Silence that gapes and tears and leaves him feeling just as hollow. “Oh, Yuuri, Yuuri, I’m so sorry.”


	56. faCtS

ANYWAY hmmm. I’m not sure if you want these HCs specifically in PoL’s universe, or in the YOI universe in general. Firstly, I just have to tell you that there are no boring facts about Viktor and Yuuri– at least as far as their fiances are concerned. I’m gonna say that Viktor is actually very good at impressions, and his favorite type of comedians are people who do impressions. You might imagine that this stems from the fact that he used to be a performative person– meaning he had to act out emotions/cover emotions up. It’s actually because Viktor is a crowd-pleaser who’s good at accents, and also at paying attention to people’s quirks. Yuuri’s boring fact is that he’s one of those people who enjoys freezer-burn ice cream (I am also one of these people) because it’s crunchy and it’s comforting to chew things. Also, the flavor reminds him of rinks… somehow.

A ViktorandYuuri fact that nobody knows is that Yuuri occasionally gets to dress Viktor, even though Yuuri’s idea of fashion is usually ‘whatever is clean and comfortable.’ Look, Yuuri tries very hard. He stares and stares at their shared closet and thinks about color schemes and fashion ‘rules’ he’s heard of in the past. (”Plaid and stripes is a no, right?” He asks on one occasion. “I would rather be naked,” says Viktor immediately in response. “That really doesn’t mean much,” Yuuri muses, unaffected. “But probably a no.”)

Then, Yuuri carefully selects an outfit he thinks would look ravishing on his Vitya, and Viktor just has to put it on. He does not say a word. He will probably have to exit the house wearing it, too.

Do they get stopped by paparazzi on some of these days?? Yes. Does it have every fashion magazine in an uproar over ‘hot or not?’ Absolutely. Luckily for Yuuri’s fashion sense, Viktor has that Rihanna magic: it’s not fashion until Viktor says it’s fashion.

“What do you credit for inspiring your invention of what is now known as the ‘baggy bourgeois’ look?” All the reporters want to know.

“Our closet light was broken from closet… activities,” says Viktor, oh-so-subtly. “So Yuuri felt around for whatever material he wanted me to wear that morning, and we made history.”


	57. the enchanted pig

Wow, it’s a theater show, put on by none other than… YOUNG VICTOR NIKIFOROV.

Anyway! This is, of course, a swashbuckling tale about Captain Shiny. He believes he is called ‘Captain Shiny’ because of his numerous, gleaming gold medals, but in actuality it is because of his forehead. He is the captain of the amazing Stammi Vicino, a ship of wanderers meant to discover new land and treasures for King Yakov. Of course, his travels take him far and wide, and he spends one evening dancing the night away with the most handsome man… only to find himself abandoned in the morning!

“Don’t worry,” says his ship chef, Christophe, “I found a pig onboard this morning, and there’s nothing, not even a broken heart, that some delicious bacon can’t fix.” Captain Shiny is initially all for this plan, until Christophe has him hold the pig for a few moments while he collects his tools. When Christophe returns, Viktor is sobbing while staring into the pig’s brown eyes, and Makkachin is whining, belly-up, giving Christophe a perfected puppy-dog look.

“We’re best friends now,” Viktor whispers. It has been five minutes. Christophe sighs and puts his tools away. The pig stays. “I name him… Piggy.”

They’re lucky the pig stays, too, because it’s the smartest animal they’ve ever seen. It points out locations on their treasure maps with its snout, saves them from evil barkeeps and other shady characters with its squealing and cute wobbling around the room. “You are a magical pig!” Viktor declares, and kisses his snout, while Yurio mutters _pork._ Viktor covers his darling pet’s ears.

And if sometimes during the night, Viktor dreams that he wakes up to find the beautiful man from that long-ago enchanted evening in his bed, instead of the pig, well. It’s a lovely dream.

Then, on his journeys, he encounters the Kingdom of Hasetsu. 

“Please,” says the queen, “help us find our son. A sorceress found him too beautiful, and stole him away from us. We’re scared he’s cursed, and lost far from home.” 

“We don’t usually look for missing persons–” tries Yurio, but the squealing Piggy jumps from Captain Shiny’s arms and butts his snout into the wall with the family portrait.

Regal and enchanting, it’s Viktor’s dance partner. “We shall find him right away, m’lady!” He drags a struggling Piggy out in his arms. This is how the Prince of Hasetsu is kidnapped and taken from his home a second time.

Will Captain Shiny ever find his life and love? Will they survive giants and sorceresses and the high seas? Will Piggy become bacon? The world may never know


	58. the crying type

I do accept HC ideas! I love them, so hit me up. I think both of them have had multiple reactions, especially because both have been competitive for so long. ANYWAY here have one particular occasion

Yuuri is _definitely_ the crying type, and he knows it. That’s why when he watches Vitya cry, slow and proud, as he stands on the podium at his return to the ice, he finds himself surprised. Or, well, he should be. Viktor hasn’t cried, not in over ten years of medaling– just ascended the podium with a smile and diplomatic wave, Russian prince that he was.

But this free program was Viktor’s equivalent of Yuuri on Ice, so maybe Yuuri’s not surprised at all.

“I won,” Viktor seems to realize, when he approaches Yuuri, who’s managed to end up at the ice’s exit. “I skated, just me, and I won.” No story of playboys or Italian men, longing for a lover, little pieces of Viktor tailored to fit into beautiful, sad stories. Just an expression raw and bold: the story of Viktor Nikiforov. 

Yuuri kisses him. “You were, how do I say it… amazing!”

Viktor makes a face. “Mocked! On this, the day of my return to the ice–”

“Shhhh,” Yuuri laughs, wrapping an arm around him and turning. There’s the press, attention-starved and failing to appear patient. “I’ve never seen you skate like that,” he says quietly. “It was breathtaking.”

“I’m a man in love,” is Viktor’s simple reply. Then there are press conferences to attend– even Yuuri has his shoulder caught by an astute reporter, who finds him in the crowd despite his glasses and sweater. Yuuri doesn’t know how they keep managing to recognize him– he looked far different, taking Gold at Worlds.

“You’re Katsuki Yuuri, yes?” _Fiance of Viktor Nikiforov, yes._ “Is it emotional, watching your fiance and coach skate for you?” 

Yuuri shakes his head. “That skate wasn’t for me,” he says, and for once, he’s not being self-deprecating. It wasn’t for Yuuri, wasn’t for Yakov, wasn’t for Chris, wasn’t even for Russia. Viktor, exposed on the ice. “He skated for himself.” 


	59. baby don't believe (sara/mila)

AHHHHHHH OKAY SO. First of all lemme just say that I am dying to write some SaraMila because I need more w/w content in my life, but anyway.   
There are millions of rumors and tales about Sara Crispino. She’s beautiful and well-traveled and even though her brother is incredibly protective, there probably isn’t a man or woman that hasn’t wanted to sneak past his defenses and steal a kiss from her pink lips. Her calves are perfect, her sunkissed skin lasts throughout the winter, and Pantene asked her to do a commercial but she couldn’t fit it into her schedule. She’s fluent in Italian, and Korean, and English.  
“And Russian,” she says nonchalantly to Mila when they first meet up after a competition. Oh, Mila thinks. The rumors must be true.  
Even the one that says that Sara’s got too wild a heart to tamp down, too wild for her own twin brother to claim.  
Now, Mila’s not a particularly easy woman to get to settle, either. Her last boyfriend? He still gives her longing glances across the ice, and she just smiles distantly and goes back to teasing Yuri.  
Still. She wants Sara. So she flings herself into the friendship with wild abandon, texts and calls and sneaks out from the next GPF banquet, much to Yakov’s distress.  
“Not you, Mila,” he says with a shake of his head, but then Viktor and Yuuri are horizontal on the floor of the banquet hall together. Mila takes Sara’s hand, and they run.  
Later, on a rooftop, with the sunrise glowing pink before them, Sara smiles at her, violet eyes crinkling and lips wobbly.  
“I’ve never really done this before,” she admits.  
“Snuck out?” Mila clarifies, blinking. She thought Sara lived for nightclubs and long nights. She’s been trying so hard.  
“That,” Sara agrees, “and staying out all night with the girl I like.”  
“Oh.”  
“I’m pretty sheltered.” She laughs lightly, tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Hopefully I haven’t been dragging you down. I’ve enjoyed every moment, though.”  
“Never!” Mila exclaims, swinging her legs and scooting closer on the rooftop ledge, “you’ve never dragged me down! I can’t believe you…” she gestures at the whole of the other woman.  
“Don’t believe everything you hear about me,” Sara teases brightly. Scoots closer too.  
“Well, I’ve heard you’re a good kisser,” Mila’s mouth lets slip.  
And, well, what can I say? Mila discovers that some rumours are false, but many of the ones about Sara are true.


	60. with you, I could go anywhere

SPACE TRAVEL AU. Another AU that I would actually, seriously write, but whatever.

Yuuri’s worked his whole life to join the ranks of the Agaperos, an exclusive space travel mission to the outer reaches of the galaxy. On it? The first man to set foot on a planet outside our quadrant, Viktor Nikiforov, the current captain of the Agaperos.

Yuuri spends a lot of time on deck avoiding his captain, at least until Viktor makes it clear he doesn’t want to be avoided. Then there are long nights together on deck, sipping at flutes of alcohol while staring out into the endless and star-speckled dark. There are days spent hauling dirt in the ship’s greenhouse, planting seeds in the earth, leaning on each other beneath the ship’s lone apple tree. Of course, there are daring missions on ship surfaces too, and quite a few interesting aliens that they befriend.

Christophe is the ship medic. One day Yuuri overhears a conversation he shouldn’t– “all this space travel, this zero gravity, is destroying your muscles and bones. But you’ve known that for a long time.”

Viktor Nikiforov is reaching the end of his time. He can’t come back to Earth– can’t go to any planet with strong gravity. Viktor Nikiforov has jumped, must remain impossibly suspended. Coming back down means his bones will break and his heart will burst.

“I suppose,” he confides to Yuuri one evening, sipping at scotch, “I could stand to live on the moon. I’d look down to Earth and I’d know you were there, somewhere, my eyes on you.”

Yuuri takes the scotch from his hands, spills it into the air, watches it float, round and wobbling, bubbles that are a deep gold. He pushes Viktor, spins him out and then reels him back in, dips him while they are weightless in the room.

“Why go back to earth at all?” He questions softly. Kisses his captain. “With you, I could go anywhere.”


	61. you always come unannounced

Mmmm okay. So this would be a canon-divergent fic where The Banquet happens when Yuuri is twenty-one. Viktor is already disillusioned with skating champion life, and due to a recent injury has retirement and losing skating on his brain already. He falls at the banquet, and falls hard.

Yuuri’s twenty-one, and when he tries to mention retirement because of his failure at the GPF Celestino gently tells him “I think the eff not” so Yuuri goes back to competitions.

“Look,” says Phichit at Japanese Nationals, “somebody’s holding an adorable banner for you up in the stands. I think the fan really likes you– _holy crap Yuuri_ that’s Viktor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri squints. He has no glasses, and is blind. “No it’s not,” he says calmly, because that is the only reasonable explanation. 

Except it is, actually, Viktor Nikiforov. And the next five times Yuuri goes to competition it is, actually, Viktor Nikiforov.

Yuuri flees at the first Worlds. By the time Viktor gets ahold of him in person they’re at Skate America. 

“Hi Yuuri!” Viktor greets. He has a whole plan, and a hotel suite he’s optimistically prepared for the occasion.

“Why are you,” is all Yuuri can say. _Why are you attending all my competitions. Unannounced._

Viktor blinks. “Why…”

“Why are you talking to me?” Yuuri asks. “Why are you here?”

“Haven’t you been reading my banners?” Viktor retorts, astounded.

Yuuri has not been. They range from the innocent (”GOLD MEDAL IN BEING A KATSUKI YUURI FAN”) to the strange (”I WISH I WAS THE ICE SO KATSUKI WOULD SKATE ON ME”) to the overused yet still heartstopping (”I <3 KATSUKI YUURI”). Each of them, on the bottom, have the words _SEE YOU NEXT LEVEL_.

Viktor has never actually come unannounced.


	62. let's pull an all-nighter! (Yuuri/Phichit)

The title sounds fun and bouncy, but the fic? The fic is not.

Yuuri’s in a group project, and at 10am the day before the group project is due, he gets a call. “Listen,” says one group member, “I accidentally deleted my whole section and I’m just too busy today! Pull something together, won’t you? You’re the best.”

Phichit comes home from class at 12pm to a partially torn up apartment and Katsuki Yuuri, sprawled on the couch with laptop and massive textbook in hand. He is switching his gaze between them. “Are you going to practi-”

“Yes. Also, I am going to fail this class,” says Yuuri. At 2pm Phichit rubs his shoulders, and brings him tea, and wraps him in blankets. At 10pm Phichit brings him coffee, and takes the blankets away. Cracks his knuckles.

“Let’s do this.” Yuuri does not fail the class. They finish at 3am, collapsed in a pile on the couch. Their mumbling is nonsensical, and when Yuuri cuddles in and pecks at his lips with a sighed _thank you_ , Phichit thinks he’d pull an all nighter again.

Alternately: Yuuri has a lot of sleepless nights. One day during the summer and the off-season, Phichit finds him humming with nervous energy on their apartment couch.

Phichit buys six Monster drinks and three five-hour-energies. “I’ve never stayed up all night before,” he confides. Being so bright and driven means he has to sleep. “But I’ll keep you company.” 

Yuuri feels loved.


	63. Fatale in Fact (Seung Gil/Georgi)

ALL the rarepair! I’d love to see your summary for this too, actually. LET’S MAKE IT A THING.

Georgi and Seung Gil meet up at the Rostelecom Cup. Seung Gil has dark, thick hair, and his long eyelashes are still damp with tears from having failed to make the Grand Prix. Georgi doesn’t stand a chance. He’d asked Anya to date him within approximately three minutes of meeting her– once he sees Seung Gil close up, he breaks his record and asks within approximately three seconds. Anya had smiled prettily at him and been impressed (at least initially) by his advances and praise.

“Leave me alone,” says Seung Gil Lee. “I don’t have time for you.” So Georgi pines, and spends several months coordinating a heart-rending new program, something with a lot of spins and chest-clutching– at least, until they both end up at ice skating exhibitions together.

“I will do anything for you,” says Georgi.

“Really,” Seung Gil says flatly, “anything.”

A femme fetale has a strange and dangerous power. Georgi gives in to it, and survives the various challenges of skill Seung Gil throws. The Korean eventually decides that it’s easier to give him a chance.

Their dates mostly consist of Seung Gil being increasingly logical, and Georgi exaggerating things. “Do you really see the world in that way?” Seung Gil asks finally, “so emotionally, and with rose colored glasses?”

“Yes,” says Georgi honestly. “Why not? I am living my life in the best way I can. I can make heartbreak and pain beautiful.”

Seung Gil wants to learn to see life that way, too, just a little.


	64. two after noon (yuuri/christophe)

Yuuri and Christophe are teenagers, and neither of them have hit their second growth spurt yet. They meet at a competition, and the first words Yuuri blurts to his new acquaintance are: “I’m in love with Viktor Nikiforov.”

“You and everyone else. Once,” Christophe confides, “he threw me flowers.”

Viktor may be their start, but he’s not their end. They hang out at competitions, explore foreign cities together. Christophe is smart and sensitive and conscious of Yuuri’s worries, his limits. They kiss, shyly and sweetly and with youthful vigor, after three different competitions. 

Then Christophe hits growth spurt two, and suddenly he’s sprawled half-naked on billboards. Suddenly _Giacometti_ comes to be synonymous with _sex_.

He asks Yuuri out to dinner in France, and when he leans in for a peck afterwards, Yuuri shakes his head. He’s still a bit baby-cheeked. Christophe still likes him. “It’s okay,” he says, “you don’t have to pity me like that.”

Christophe doesn’t quite understand, but he’s not one to push. He’s also not particularly public with his feelings, and years later he’ll realize that Yuuri didn’t understand them.

At the Cup of China, years later, Christophe gives him a crooked smile when Viktor is snagged by several other competitors. “I’m glad to see you happy, cherie. I always hoped for the best, for you.”

Yuuri looks up at him, oddly emotional. Christophe’s always wished he were brave enough to exhibit feelings in that way. “You’ve been good for me too,” he says softly. “Thank you for caring for me back then.”

Christophe will never marry Yuuri. They were never in desperate love. It doesn’t make those times they did have any less valuable. 


	65. twelfth night

HELLO yes little did I know I needed to write a summary of this AU. God, I love Twelfth Night. Duke Orsino?? Prime Viktor material. Except Viktor isn’t interested in a ton of people, just the one and only. Of course, it’d be set in the same time period as Shakespeare’s, except in Kubo’s universe.

Yuuri is shipwrecked, but luckily found by Phichit. Miserable, because he lost Vicchan in the shipwreck, he nonetheless is encouraged by Phichit to don one of Phichit’s outfits, get dressed up, and goes to a ball held by Duke Viktor. Phichit does his makeup, gives him a dress and wig, etc, because that’s what Yuuri is feeling that night. Everyone and their father falls immediately in love with this (wo)man, and Viktor is intent on courting her (”Christophe, I never believed my heart would be lost to a woman, but alas! I must sing her praises!” Also, in this universe, I guess Viktor is gay rather than some other flavor of queer). Unfortunately, in a twist of events, Yuuri gets hired on as the one to do the “wooing” of the mysterious Eros woman that disappeared after the ball, but can’t seem to find her anywhere… until Phichit figures it out.

“Yuuri, the enigmatic Eros… tis you!” Yuuri, of course, refuses to believe this could be possible, and proceeds to question Viktor about his ‘love.’ 

“I love her with adoration, with fertile tears, with groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire!” Viktor exclaims. 

Yuuri, hardly believing it, says he’s found the woman and that she has passed along her rejection. Viktor refuses to take no for an answer, and pleads for Yuuri to keep wooing her, writing her much poetry and composing music with Yuuri at his side. After a period of this, Viktor sets his quill down. Unfortunately, he hasn’t seen this woman in a long time… and despite his former feelings, he realizes he has fallen for his quiet but determined new hire. He makes new poetry, new music, spends long nights talking to his hire. “My passions doth lie with you, now. Will you have me as a husband, Yuuri?”

Yuuri shows up to the ceremony in a wedding gown, and Viktor realizes how very lucky he is. There is much rejoicing, and so much love.


	66. to dream

So today I watched Inception. And then… a **drabble** had to happen (under the cut). Everybody’s aged up… by a lot (except Yurio). Leo de la Iglesia is now Leonardo DiCaprio. Look at how similar those names are. DON’T THINK I DIDN’T FIGURE YOU OUT, LEO.

"Mr. Nikiforov,“ Leo de la Iglesia explains, "inception is… incredibly complex. There are limited records of it happening. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Absolutely sure,” Viktor responds, firm. 

“Then tell us our target, and the idea we’re implanting." 

"The target is Katsuki Yuuri.” He flips his phone, shows the group his screen and the picture. 

“So who is he? Some corporate magnate? You want us to encourage him to sign a merger with your company–" 

"No,” Viktor responds instantly, lip curling. “None of that. Your job…” they all stare together, tense. “Your job is to make him want to go on a date with me.” There is a moment of silence, followed by outrage.

“I’m leaving!” Yurio announces, “I don’t want ANY PART of his crush’s brain being near me.” Otabek pats his back, soothing– he’s the best architect in the world, if not also the most temperamental. The others plunge on. 

“Sir, no offense,” Leo explains to their silver haired client, “but if you want us to implant an idea for a few thousand dollars, you need to tell us what it actually is.” He glances to Christophe. “Back me up here." 

Christophe just laughs. "He’s serious. A date with Katsuki Yuuri is what he wants." 

Leo looks back to their client, to his hopeful expression. He thinks he understands. "Sir,” he says gently, “we can’t make him fall in love with you." 

The hope doesn’t die, just trembles in his eyes. For a moment, just an instant, Leo lets himself think of Guang-Hong, sleeping. In the hospital, mind so deep in limbo Christophe says it will take 4 levels of dreaming to pull him out. Maybe– after this mission– just maybe. 

Viktor looks down to the picture on his phone screen. Blue glasses, hesitant smile, eyes on Viktor. _We can’t make him fall in love._ "I know. I don’t want you to." 

* * *

Viktor sits in the first class cabin, and tries not to get absorbed in Yuuri’s sweet, sleeping face. In just three hours, those sparkling brown eyes will open and Viktor will finally have the chance to ask if he– 

Yurio sits up, rips the dream equipment from his arm. "You nitwit!” He hisses. The rest of the team stirs– Yuuri does not. 

“That was too quick,” Viktor assesses. He wrings his hands, comes to stand over Yurio. “You hardly spent any time on the first level–" 

"Yeah, well,” says Mila, sitting up, “once your dream projection waltzed over and started a mutual make-out session with him in the middle of what became a VERY explicit dream, we concluded that our job was already done." 

"He dreams about me?” Viktor whispers. 

"I have an idea,“ Yurio interrupts. "How about, instead of wasting money and time and having us all knocked out with a sedative, you ASK KATSUKI ON A DATE FIRST–" 

"Shhh,” Leo interrupts, “Katsuki is still sleeping on this plane.” He smiles up at Viktor. “It’s your turn now, Mr. Nikiforov.”

“Loverboy,” Christophe croons, teasing. Viktor scowls at him, but returns to his plane chair as the others clean up the equipment. 

“We’re best friends,” he explains, settling back in his seat with a rueful smile. “Yuuri always runs when I try to bring up feelings. I just wanted a chance, just one date, and if he rejects me I’ll understand…" 

Yuuri shifts in his sleep, sighs. Viktor knows it’s a sure sign of him waking up soon, from years of accidentally falling asleep on couches together. _Please_ , he thinks. _Please don’t run this time, even if you don’t feel the same–_

"Isn’t anybody going to mention,” Yurio seethes, “how the IDIOT’S projection was wearing a WEDDING RING?" 

_Oh_ , goes Viktor’s heart. Yuuri’s brown eyes slide open, meet his own, sleepy smile automatically curving onto his face. _You can do this, Viktor. You know who he dreams of, now_.

"How long was I out?” Yuuri asks, hoarse, “is it time for lunch?” He doesn’t look any different. Viktor takes a deep breath. 

“Not yet, but I’m going to order some champagne for the occasion." 

"The occasion of it being 11am on a plane?" 

"No,” Viktor says, and stands. “The occasion of me asking you, Katsuki Yuuri, on a date." 

Suddenly, the Japanese man is wide awake. "Viktor,” he chokes out, eyes darting to the exit and sliding his body to the edge of his seat, “this isn’t funny." 

"Good, because it’s not a joke. I– I’m in love with you.” They stare at each other for a few moments. Viktor lets out a dismal laugh. “That’s coming on too strong, isn’t it?” The other man still looks shocked– then Viktor hangs his head, and this spurs him on.

“You–Viktor, wait, no,” Yuuri breathes out in a rush, “no, I love you too, I’ve loved you for so long…" 

Viktor can’t help himself. He tumbles over, wedges himself beside Yuuri in the plane seat, kisses his cheeks and his shoulders. “Darling–” 

There’s a slow clap from behind them. Viktor is unceremoniously detached from Yuuri’s neck. "In public,” Yuuri moans, and promptly sinks into the chair. 

“It’s okay,” says Viktor, tipping forward, “they already know.” Yuuri stiffens. 

“What do you mean–" 

"Skydiving,” Yurio announces, “makes for a great first date. You two should go. Parachute or no.”

Leo sighs, looks to Mila and Christophe. Despite having done nothing, he thinks it’s been their best mission so far. Assuming Viktor is still going to pay them– which, judging by the ridiculous grin on his face, he is one happy customer– they should have enough money to finish research on reaching the 4th level.

“Leo, you’ll see him soon,” Christophe says, smiling. “Then you can both go home to your kids.”

“Yeah,” Leo sighs, looking out the plane window at dark clouds, “I’m ready to go home.”


	67. winter wonderland

If the YOI crew got together and built snowmen, you know exactly how it’d go down:

–Viktor and Yuuri would make THREE snowpeople, one of them being a snowdog and the other two so close that, when they melt three days later, their bottom halves meld together

–Yurio makes the biggest but least decorated snowman, because LIKE HELL IS ANYONE’S SNOWMAN GONNA BE BIGGER THAN HIS, NO ONE IS GOING TO MAKE FUN OF HIS SHORT SNOWMAN. Then he spends the rest of his time throwing snowballs and breaking icicles off the house to use for stabbing

–Otabek makes a snowcat, because he knew Yuri would want one but was too busy dealing with his Napoleon complex to make it himself

–Christophe very specifically makes a snowman. It is _unmistakably_ a snowMAN, if you catch my drift. 

–Mila makes a snowlady and uses all the right decorations– meaning, the birds are all over it. Mila likes to help out the little creatures. She also dyes the bottom half of Yurio’s snowman yellow with some Gatorade, and nearly gets stabbed for her troubles.

–Phichit makes a million miniature snowmen, all set out in various scenes, so he can take pictures. Think [Calvin and Hobbes style](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fexplore%2Fcalvin-and-hobbes-snowmen%2F%3Flp%3Dtrue&t=NjU2NTk4YjU0NjdmMmMyMWY0NDNmMjIxYTQxODkwODE5YTFkYmIyMCwxZXZYRmRWRg%3D%3D&b=t%3Az_1SRW2CrRVtpmGhbCm65A&p=https%3A%2F%2Fkiaronna.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F169437383533%2Fwinter-wonderland&m=1)

–Yakov and Lilia drink hot cocoa on the couch, under five blankets, and watch from the windows. They have locked all the doors for some peace and quiet, and none of those snow-soaked skaters have figured that out yet. They realize, when they’re freezing and knocking piteously to be let in. Viktor has already resigned to penguin huddling his husband. “For _survival_ , Yuuri,” he says, even though he is a typical Russian and can probably withstand a windchill of -20.

(Yakov will eventually let them back in, because he has a heart just like the marshmallows he and Lilia put in the hot chocolate– soft. Melting. Sweet.)

Then Viktor and Christophe start stripping out of their wet snowgear _right in the hallway_ , and Yuri is trying to sneak in a particularly large icicle to store in the freezer, and _damn it children_ –


	68. the opposite of loneliness

“So,” says Yuuri, after he’s nursed his coffee for about twenty minutes and the silver-haired man has just continued to stare at him, “Georgi. Why did you enter the program?”

“The program,” Viktor repeats, with a significant pause. “Oh. Yes. I entered The Opposite of Loneliness program because the most significant relationship I have is with my dog.”

Yuuri doesn’t laugh, just squints at him through his blue frames. Viktor’s not sure what to do with that. He hadn’t really meant to say it. He hadn’t realized it was the truth until it came out of his mouth. “But you’re so beautiful. And talented.”

_So are you_ , Viktor wants to say. _And you’re still in this program._ Just like Viktor isn’t. In fact, his exact instructions from Georgi had been “please tell my date I’ve decided to marry the first person I met through the program, so I won’t be meeting with him.” Instead, Viktor had sat down across from Yuuri and somehow said, _hello, I’m your date for the evening._

_“_ My roommate made me join. I’m surprised someone hasn’t snatched you up already,” Yuuri continues, and flushes. “How many, um, dates have you been on in the program? How many do you have scheduled, after this?”

Viktor blinks. He has no idea. What’s a reasonable number? What are numbers? What are words, when he’s staring into the depths of mesmerizing chocolate eyes? “Ah. Forty?” At Yuuri’s visible wilt, Viktor rushes to ask, “what about you?”

“O-oh.” Yuuri screws his eyes shut. “A few. They went, well, badly? I’m sorry, I don’t want to bore you with it. In fact, I don’t want to waste your time, and I don’t think we’re on the same level, so you can go on your forty other dates and I’ll just–”

“WHY DON’T YOU COME WITH ME.”

Somehow, Yuuri doesn’t take this or the following explanation in quite the right way. This is how Viktor Nikiforov both digs his own grave and buries himself in it.

“Hello,” he says to a sour-looking Italian three days later, “I’m Vi–Georgi. Thank you for… agreeing to double-date.” Yuuri’s leg is gently brushing against his beneath the table. It almost makes the scoff the Italian makes worth it.

“My sister insisted I join this ridiculous matchmaking program, but all I need is her! Emil here wants a wingman.”

“Definitely,” says Emil, but he is grinning with ease right in Michele’s direction, and this is why Viktor feels no shame in sneaking a palm onto Yuuri’s thigh.

“Ah!” Yuuri yelps, and _up_ goes his knee, and _crack_ go Viktor’s knuckles against the bottom of the table.

40 dates. Viktor can do this. His body is going to suffer, but he can do this.


	69. this ain't no game (days 1-4)

I realized there are Hunger Games simulators, and decided to run one with the YOI crowd. I’ve put together highlights from my simulation, but be warned that it involves character death (…obviously). 

It’s all in good fun!! That being said, have the first day of THE YOI HUNGER GAMES

Day 1–[ Day 2](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169850417182/this-aint-no-game-day-2)– [Day 3](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169967443868/this-aint-no-game-day-3)–Day 4– Day 5&6–Day 7– Day 8 and Finale 

Viktor, ever the stress-drinker, gets placed into the Hunger Games and does this:

Minako fights Yuri’s Angels for loot and WINS, obviously

I am uncomfortable with Georgi’s acquisition:

WHAT IS HE GONNA DO WITH THOSE. HE IS NOT STABLE ENOUGH TO HAVE THOSE

JJ is in character:

  


Guys, guys. We have a death. THIS IS A LITTLE TOO CLOSE TO HOME, THIS IS NOT OKAY:

*cries for twenty years*

Yuuko IMMEDIATELY STARTS MURDERING PEOPLE, SHE IS COLD-BLOODED:

Huh, I guess the simulator ships Otamila: 

Yuuri’s first major action is to set (Viktor’s heart) on fire. He’s smokin:

And of course, if Yuuri’s gonna start a fire, guess who has to follow his idol’s example:

ANYWAY THAT CONCLUDES DAY 1 Y’ALL

Stick around for day two and even more terrible YOI Hunger Games highlights

* * *

**DAY 2:**

Hey kids, guess who’s still doing a YOI Hunger Games simulation! It’s me. I’ve put together highlights from my simulation, but be warned that it involves character death (…obviously). 

Check out [Day 1′s highlights here](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169832619998/this-aint-no-game)– and continue on with the drama that is a YOI Hunger Games simulation below!

[Day 1](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169832619998/this-aint-no-game)– **Day 2** – [Day 3](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169967443868/this-aint-no-game-day-3)–Day 4– Day 5&6–Day 7– Day 8 and Finale 

Immediately, this:

I feel like Minako made Seung-Gil a drink, and then promptly drank it herself, because Minako likes alcohol

Never go in against a Korean when death is on the line, amirite, they’re much better than Sicilians named Vizzini at this kind of thing

This very strange raiding party forms:

YOOOOO THAT YUURI AND YURIO BOND LIVES ON:

Uh oh, Viktor (teamwork skills:0) is on a team, I feel like this isn’t gonna go well:

Did… did Viktor join this group SPECIFICALLY to avenge Makkachin? WILL HE KILL GEORGI IN HIS SLEEP

Aww, Celestino takes care of the kiddos:

Oh, and this:

I’M SORRY, WUT

OH NO THEY DIDN’T

Speaking of Yuuri, AKA Kat-niss-don, please remember that Yuuri is here to play the part of Katniss, archer extraordinaire. Even if you don’t remember, Minami does:

THIS WHOLE HUNGER GAMES IS JUST AN OPPORTUNITY TO OBSERVE YUURI’S TECHNIQUE, what a positive little bean

This situation seems reasonable:

Lilia “cheerfully” sings. ChEErFuLLy

And to conclude Day 2, this:

It was totally Yurio’s grandpa.

ONWARD TO DAY 3′S MORNING:

Seung-Gil flirts with Phichit, and Leo flirts with death. Really, Seung-Gil? You “missed”? We all know your calculations don’t allow you to miss.

Meanwhile, Michele decides the best show of brotherly affection is murder:

“Silently,” please. Mickey was ranting about his sister the whole time.

OMG THE DREAM TEAM HAS FORMED:

And I’m sorry to say this, but… Yurio has fallen.

Literally.

And the amazing finale:

EVEN HUNGER GAMES GEORGI IS A STALKER

Tune in next time for even more ridiculousness

* * *

**DAY 3:**

Onwards we go, through the highlight reel of my **YOI Hunger Games simulation, Day 3**! See the readmore for the highlights.

[Day 1](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169832619998/this-aint-no-game)– [Day 2](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169850417182/this-aint-no-game-day-2)– **Day 3** –Day 4– Day 5&6–Day 7– Day 8 and Finale 

Mila went into a jungle/forest deathmatch in a croptop, so I guess we should’ve expected this to happen: 

Cover up and use bugspray and alcohol (not for drinking, for cleaning!), kiddos. 

By popular demand, people would like to know what happened to Yakov all the way back on Day 1, which I skipped. I’d like to say Yakov died because he was so frustrated with Viktor, but this is actually what went down:

Nobody ever listens to Yakov when he tries to convince them to do something. Stubborn skaters, the lot of them.

ON A TOTALLY UNRELATED NOTE, back on Day 3, Lilia disapproves of Otabek:

Sorry, Yurio. And this definitely had _nothing_ to do with her ex-husband-well-kind-of-it’s-complicated’s death. Not. At. All. 

In totally different news: THE DETROIT MARSHMALLOWS ARE NOT MESSING AROUND

We all knew that together they were a destructive force, but come on.

And Viktor has Deep Thoughts:

Does winning… really make him happy? Would killing a bunch of other tributes and being first… make Viktor happy??

Another person having a crisis is Yuuko:

I mean… is she still sane?? She got put into the arena and immediately killed somebody. ..don’t mess with the Yuuko.

MY BABY, MY BABY, YUURI’S BIGGEST FAN:

Whyyyyyyyyyy?!?!?! NOBODY SHOULD DIE OF DYSENTERY. At least… nobody murdered him? Nobody could murder that shiny little face, so Minami would’ve won if not for this. I declare it to be law.

BAHAHAHAHAHHAA these events are clearly related:

  


I didn’t know you could die from being…. thirsty ;) ;) ;)

Dude, Michele has only been dead for like a day, plz calm down Emil, you can find a new crush to let out your sexual tension on

In other news, Yuuri lets his nerves get the best of him, as per usual in competition:

HANG ON, YUURI, I WANT U TO WIN

* * *

Plz cast your vote for who you think will win (in my inbox) and who you think will kill the most people, keeping in mind that these are your remaining contestants:

* * *

**DAY 4:**

We’ve made it to this point, y’all. Things are looking grim for our favorite figure skaters. Please check out this day’s highlights in the readmore below!

[Day 1](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169832619998/this-aint-no-game)– [Day 2](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169850417182/this-aint-no-game-day-2)– [Day 3](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169967443868/this-aint-no-game-day-3)– **Day 4** – Day 5&6–Day 7– Day 8 and Finale 

Phichit just wants to go back to Thailand

Unlike in YOI, Phichit does not want to bring the Hunger Games back to his countrymen. Pitting children against each other can stay in the dystopian United States, thanks.

FIRST GEORGI KILLS MAKKACHIN, AND NOW THIS:

I thought Georgi would die in round 1, but he’s killed Viktor like three times at this point without ACTUALLY killing Viktor

VIKTOR IS SAD AND TRIES TO SING HIMSELF TO SLEEP. NO. NO. THIS IS TOO REAL AND STILL NOT OKAY

Note the “tries”. Yuuri is clearly just desperate for skinship, because Viktor’s not around. ANYWAY

Look at this plot twist:

Yuuko cannot be stopped!!! Not even Lilia can withstand her! Questioning her sanity yesterday, killing more people today. She’s on a roll

Guess who else is on a roll

Sara probably was aiming at JJ, but hit Isabella instead. Because who’d actually want to kill Isabella?

ANYWAY because JJ is totally capable of survival by himself and was totes not depending on his girl to feed and shelter him, this immediately happens after Isabella goes down:

Again, I didn’t know that was a thing that happened in the Hunger Games. Like?? Why dysentery??? I guess… JJ is the only one who can defeat JJ, because JJ thinks he is the greatest.

And finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for:

It was still probably Yurio’s grandpa.

EAT UP, SON, AND LIVE

* * *

THANKS FOR READING. Stick around for Day 5!!


	70. this ain't no game (days 5-8)

**DAYS 5 AND 6**   


Dang, Yuuko and Sara are killing it.

I put our favorite figure skaters through a Hunger Games simulator– check out Day 5 and 6′s highlights below!

[Day 1](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169832619998/this-aint-no-game)– [Day 2](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169850417182/this-aint-no-game-day-2)– [Day 3](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169967443868/this-aint-no-game-day-3)–[Day 4](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/170017394263/this-aint-no-game-day-4) **–** **Day 5 &6**–Day 7– Day 8 and Finale 

Some of my favorite people are together, but this is a weird situation

Georgi dreams of his relationship with Anya:

This is OOC, but… they probably talk about dogs:

Viktor: “Yuuri wouldn’t let me into his room, will you let me into your shelter?”

Seung-Gil: “no.”

Viktor: “but Georgi poisoned my dog and I miss her”

Seung-Gil: *opens up cave door* come in, and let’s talk about this Georgi fellow

Next, THE FEAST (where a bunch of supplies are dumped onto the field) happens! But… nobody goes??? I guess they’re all on a strict diet for the competitive season??

Like, this is just unreasonable:

Viktor would definitely go to that Feast, he loves food. And the chance for a fancy feast where both of them could go together?? There’s now way they’d miss it

AGH PHICHIT NO

BAD PHICHIT

PHICHIT. WHAT. My sunshine boy just took out both the people with the highest kill counts!!!

This happens:

Yuuri: “my dog is cuter than yours”

Seung-Gil: “oh heck no, come over here and let me introduce you to my knives”

Georgi: *is still a stalker* “what great information”

Meanwhile:

Viktor is not in the murdering business, y’all. He is just wandering.

* * *

**DAY 7:**

WE’RE GETTING CLOSE TO THE FINALE

Some quality people are still alive, and also there’s Georgi. Please check out the highlights of my YOI Hunger Games AU Simulation below, in the readmore!

FINALLY, SOMEONE AVENGES MAKKACHIN

This wasn’t who I was expecting–seriously, Phichit is the only non-dog-lover left, and we’re talking about Yuuri, Seung-Gil, and Viktor, who would absolutely murder for a pupper– but I am satisfied. Now the games may continue.

On the other hand, this is just the kind of tragic, extra death that Georgi would want. Falling off a cliff during a knife fight?? BOOOOO GEORGI. Also, this is Phichit’s 3RD KILL IN 48 HOURS. 

Don’t mess with Phichit. He’ll feed ur blood to his hamsters.

AHAHAHAHAHSGDOHSFJGSGDSDG

YOU KNOW YOU’RE GETTING CLOSE TO A SERIOUS COMPETITION WHEN

  


YEEEEEEEEEEES

Phichit wants to get lit

Seung-Gil (who canonically hates vegetables) struggles to be a picky eater when he’s scrounging for survival:

Oh. OH MY GOD. 

OH MY GOD

CAN U BELIEVE

These idiots have not interacted for basically all of this simulation, and now that it’s the second-to-last day they’re out here BEING EXTRA AND ROMANTIC

Viktor clearly can’t bear to be around now that there’s only 4 people left, and he knows he and Yuuri are going to have to go against each other at some point.

Guys. This is supposed to be a joke simulation, BUT I’M HAVING FEELINGS

Viktor: “Yuuri, please. Please end it so we don’t have to fight. I can’t go on.”

Yuuri: “I can’t do that to you, Viktor! I– I love you!”

Viktor: “CRUSH MY HEAD BETWEEN YOUR POWERFUL THIGHS”

Yuuri: “Viktor, please, I just said I didn’t wanna kill you!”

Viktor: “Hmm? OH! The second time, I meant: crush my head… sexually.” *winks*

Yuuri: “OH”

*they make out in the bushes while sponsors look on eagerly*

* * *

Day 7=episode 7, when they KISS

* * *

**DAY 8:**

THINGS ARE GETTING SERIOUS

Georgi FINALLY died, and now we’ve got a deathmatch between some of my favorite people ever. Please check out the highlights below!

[Day 1](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169832619998/this-aint-no-game)– [Day 2](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169850417182/this-aint-no-game-day-2)– [Day 3](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/169967443868/this-aint-no-game-day-3)–[Day 4](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/170017394263/this-aint-no-game-day-4) **–** [Day 5&6](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/170093298278/this-aint-no-game-day-56)–[Day 7](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/post/170165565954/this-aint-no-game-day-7)– **Day 8 and Finale**

This happens:

Boys. The only other tributes alive are Viktor and Yuuri. So… basically, they’re gossiping about Viktuuri.

Seung-Gil: “Yesterday, I heard them confessing their love and making out.”

Phichit: “AWWWW”

Seung-Gil: “I think we can use it to our advantage”

Phichit: “I can’t believe Yuuri didn’t tell me! Okay, well, yes I can. BUT WE HAVE TO TELL THEM CONGRATULATIONS”

Seung-Gil: “Let’s tell them congratulations with a knife”

OH SNAP OH SNAP

Guys, what’s about to happen next is… crazy. And before I show you, I just need to recap.

_**Day 7 Morning:** _

_**Day 7 Evening:** _

YUURI WHY

YUURI. WHY. GET URSELF TOGETHER YUURI. YOU LITERALLY JUST REFUSED TO DO THAT, WHAT COULD HAVE POSSIBLY CHANGED

Clearly Day 7 Afternoon involved a parking lot scene like this:

  


I guess it’s… poetic… that the only person who could take Viktor’s life was Yuuri. He giveth love and life, and he taketh away.

*cries for twenty years* I DON’T LIKE THIS

Okay, kids. I was promptly reminded at this point in the simulation why I’m never, ever going to write a Hunger Games AU for YOI. It’s too sad. I have henceforth altered the words (but not the spirit!) of the simulation so it doesn’t make me cry.

HERE’S WHAT (KIND OF) HAPPENS NEXT:

  


THAT HAPPENED

ALL OF THIS LEGIT HAPPENED ON MY FIRST SIMULATION RUN. 

So, drumroll please…

The results of my first YOI Hunger Games Simulation is!!!

**SEUNG-GIL**

*kazoo and streamers*

That calculating, coldblooded man!!! Is anyone surprised?? Anyone at all? I could’ve told you he was capable of evading and shanking people. He did all the calculations. He FIGURED OUT HOW TO WIN.

Congrats to anyone who picked him! You win nothing but pure satisfaction, but thanks for playing anyway!

* * *

Wow. That was… a journey. And here are the summary statistics of this wild ride:

**Important things to note:**

–YUURI GOT SILVER AGAIN *kicks over chair* WHY CAN HE NOT BE ALLOWED TO WIN GOLD, EVEN IN A SIMULATION

–Phichit, sunshine and hamster child, had the most kills

–As a district, Sara&Michele and Yuuko&Yuuri paired up to kill the most people

–Viktor died BY YUURI’S HAND, and Viktor was the only one Yuuri killed

–Guang Hong talks a big talk but he survived for all of two seconds, less than Yuri’s Angels. This poor, darling teddy bear

–MAKKACHIN DIED BY FOOD BY GEORGI’S HAND AND IT WAS TERRIBLE

–I learned that we should all hate Georgi (not really, but still)

–Viktor didn’t kill anyone because he’s a darling, but clearly had the skillz to survive for a long time

–Let it be noted that Yuuri’s Eros was showing, as he held hands with one tribute, huddled for warmth with another, and was clearly in love with Viktor, all in the middle of a death-match

–All the coaches died pretty quick, except… *cackles* Lilia, who dominated

–Christophe CAME 20th

–Sara can clearly survive without her twin bro, she made it much farther.

–Isabella??? Did so well???? WHY? But clearly she was the one keeping JJ alive, because she died and he went out immediately after

Honestly, the main conclusion is this: Yuuri and Viktor are fated, and will be extra no matter what situation you put them in. 

*bows* THANK YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME AMUSING MYSELF


	71. uranus and the solar system

I was just watching a documentary about the formation of the solar system (DON’T MOCK ME I’M A NERD) where they used ice skaters to represent all the planets and asteroids. Why did they do that?? I’m not completely sure. What I do know is that there was definitely an ice show after the Sochi GPF where the theme was “the solar system,” and it was the worst ice show of Yuuri’s life.

“Viktor is Jupiter,” everyone agrees, which is partially because Jupiter is the biggest and best but mostly because Viktor’s forehead could definitely get moons to orbit it. 

“Who has the hips to be Saturn and rotate these hula-hoop rings?” The producer asks.

“Katsuki,” comes the unanimous chant. Yuuri doesn’t understand, but he does know that now he has to stand by Viktor Nikiforov in a ridiculous outfit. _Oh my god_ , he thinks in abject horror, which is astoundingly exactly what Viktor is thinking as he stares and stares at Yuuri’s skintight outfit.

JJ is Uranus, for obvious reasons AND because it means he’s stuck in the outer reaches of the solar system, where he can’t accidentally offend anyone. Otabek is Neptune– but only because Yurio had a brief stint as Pluto, as it was the smallest. “I’m a planet!” He hollers, spite-skating in circles with his chubby purple outfit on, “screw you!” Eventually Yurio becomes Mars, the red planet of the god of war, instead. Minami is tiny Mercury, and zips around the sun excitedly. Christophe takes his rightful place as Venus, named after the goddess of love, while a stone-faced Seung-Gil assumes his position as the Earth. His orbit is ridiculously precise– though he’s thrown off a bit by Sara Crispino, who has assumed her position as The Moon.

“I think Phichit should be Saturn!” Yuuri pleads. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Phichit scolds, “I’m the Sun. Look at me, and tell me I’m not the sun.” Yuuri can’t even look at him directly, he’s so bright and cheerful.

“You’re the sun,” Yuuri admits, defeated.

“Did you know,” says Viktor, skating so close the outside of his planet outfit bumps against Yuuri’s rings, “that when the Solar System was first formed Saturn SAVED Jupiter from falling into the sun, and then they did a romantic gravitational dance that helped form the rest of the system? We should do it, Yuu-ri!”

Yurio interrupts what Viktor assumes to be a beautiful moment. “Stop making stuff up just so you can put a ring on Saturn!”

“I already have rings?” Yuuri says, and with Viktor so close, has vivid flashbacks to the disaster that was Sochi. “I HAVE TO GO NOW.”

“No!” Viktor wails, “no, it’s science! You can’t go against science!” Unfortunately for Viktor, the solar system spins on. He doesn’t know that Yuuri’s whole world revolves around him– yet.


	72. first week headspace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aristophania asked: So, let's talk about Victor Nikiforov for a minute. What do you think his headspace was during that one week in Japan before Yurio arrived? He's flown all the way to Hasetsu only to be summarily rejected by Yuri, but he doesn't go home. He decides to do the coach thing but bans Yuri from the rink until he drops some weight. What's going on with him for that week? The only scene we really see is the 'do you have feelings for Minako' one.

THIS IS AN EXCELLENT QUESTION. Sorry I took so long to get back. I’m gonna split this meta into two parts, because I have lots of feelings about episode 2:

**1\. The week of confusion and skating your feelings**

**2\. When life gives you Yuri Plisetsky, make Yuuri fired up**

* * *

**1\. The week of confusion and skating your feelings**

So! I’m going to start from about the point where Viktor’s getting the hint that Yuuri isn’t the playboy he expected. I think Viktor’s arrival hilariously mimicked Yuuri’s approach at the banquet: he takes off his clothes, indirectly announces his intentions, and initiates a lot of physical contact. When this doesn’t work, he reverts to being playful, and essentially offering himself up to Yuuri on a silver platter as a sleepover companion:

(This does not go well.)

By morning, I think Viktor’s realized that the coaching component of their relationship is going to be much more real than the smexy and loving part of it, so he begins focusing on that. However, I do think it’s telling that Viktor immediately goes to the rink the next morning.

We know that Yuuri skates when he’s feeling overwhelmed and trying to work through things– we can assume, from his choreography of Eros and Stammi Vicino, that Viktor processes emotions similarly. He doesn’t know what to do, and he has a lot of feelings bottled up, so he goes and skates the programs he’s been working on _because of Yuuri_ to deal with the emotions. 

(He’s also super aggravated while skating them and calls Yuuri a ‘little piggy’ SO I’M JUST SAYING HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN SPITE SKATING JUST A LITTLE)

I think Viktor spends a lot of that week skating to cope with the upheaval of his expectations about Yuuri, and a decent amount of it training with Yuuri. We see this in quick shots like this:

I mean, he traveled across the world for this man, who he’s been crushing on for a couple months. He wants to spend time with him. After some time, I think he determines that there must be _some_ reason for Yuuri being significantly colder than at the banquet, so we get this hilarious conversation:

OH SO YOU DON’T HAVE A LOVER, THAT’S NOT THE ISSUE HUH

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR EX-LOVERS I’M GONNA BE LIKE THEM, TELL ME WHAT THEY DID TO EARN YOU

(This also doesn’t go well.)

Something that I think gets overlooked a lot is that THE SECOND HE DETERMINES YUURI IS SINGLE/AVAILABLE he goes and publicly announces to the whole world that he’s in Hasetsu.

YEP I’M HERE I’M COACHING THIS SINGLE AND VERY ATTRACTIVE MAN, IT’S HAPPENING

Prior to this picture, there was no public confirmation that he was in Hasetsu and coaching Yuuri, despite some time clearly having passed since his arrival. It’s one thing to tell someone’s family and friends that you’re coaching them, and quite another to announce it to the world. At this point, he’s committed.

ANYWAY so there’s a lot more skating-to-process that happens, in the space of time between his Instagram announcement and Yurio’s arrival.

ONWARD TO PART 2

**2\. When life gives you Yuri Plisetsky, make Yuuri fired up**

For all that Viktor seems like an airheaded, forgetful little man, after watching this episode again I am extremely doubtful that this was the case. This is, legit, his reaction to Yurio showing up in Hasetsu:

“I’m surprised Yakov let you come,” he says. You’re not, like?? Surprised this fifteen year old hunted you down from across the globe and is here to yell at you?

And instead of being like “hey kid why are you here where are your parents” his instant reaction is “OH DID I FORGET SOMETHING IMPORTANT I PROMISED YOU? DID I?? DOES THAT UPSET YOU???”

I’m forgetful, and yet “did I forget a promise” is not my first reaction when someone is pissed at me. As much as I imagine Viktor is forgetful, I also think there’s another possibility: he left Russia _fully aware_ that he’d made a promise to Yurio, and was betting on Yurio either having forgotten/not having the willpower to get to Japan, or him having arrived to Yuuri and Viktor in the middle of a makeout session, whereupon Yurio would have disappeared in a poof of smoke.

Except, um, Katsuki Yuuri isn’t going the way he’d planned. And Yurio, unlike Yuuri, is going full-throttle at what he wants.

(Viktor, were you planning on having Yurio arrive after you put up that Instagram pic. WERE YOU?? I NEED TO KNOW HOW SMART YOU ARE) 

Yurio’s arrival prompts some interesting behavior. Viktor drinks for the first time onscreen, which could be a typical Viktor thing _or_ a signifier that something is wrong, and he does it while wearing his disappointed face:

*sigh* ANYWAY the next morning Viktor starts training with Yurio and Yuuri. Sometimes I believe that Viktor is humoring Yurio: I mean, he moved to Japan. He’s basically in love with Yuuri. He’s not going to become Yurio’s coach without a fight. AND THEN I SAW THIS LINE which isn’t even that significant:

(for reference, he’s just said hi to this fisherman, and Yurio and Yuuri both did not)

A huge part of being Yuuri’s coach, for Viktor, is teaching him manners with strangers, from minor fans to, well, Minami Kenjirou. Automatically, he’s giving Yurio this same behavior. And, though I don’t think he _wants_ to coach Yurio, he does agree that whoever wins Onsen on Ice will have him. He could be seriously reconsidering coaching Yuuri, at this point, having spent the last week making zero progress. I do doubt this a bit, though. 

Part of his behavior could be because he doesn’t think Yurio is going to beat Yuuri in the first place, but I think a MUCH BIGGER part of it is that he recognizes a chance to use Yurio to stoke a fire in Yuuri. Up to this point, he’s jabbed at Yuuri quite a bit, but he hasn’t seen a single hint of the confident, competitive man he saw at the banquet. Yuuri doesn’t even act like he wants Viktor there. Then Yurio shows up, someone he knows has “competed” with Yuuri on the dance floor, and offers Yuuri a challenge. Viktor wants to see how Yuuri deals with that. Viktor wants to remind Yuuri of the banquet and its dance-off. Viktor wants Yuuri to show interest, and desire.

Look at the way he treats Yurio:

HE’S LEGIT AGGRAVATING THIS KID. LOOK AT HIS FACE. Viktor is blunt and confident in his skating skills, certainly, but I think this is the closest to bragging that Viktor has ever gotten in the show. The more I watch episode two, the higher Viktor Nikiforov’s emotional intelligence and frickin manipulation skills SKYROCKET in my head. Yurio is young, fiery, and as we know, Viktor is quite capable of playing him like a fiddle (reference: Yurio’s Junior competition).

He amps Yurio up, and heightens the stakes by threatening to take away his coaching from Yuuri, which Yuuri previously asked for, and give it to someone who seems much more interested.

And what is Yuuri’s response?

He gets passionate! He swears he’s going to GIVE VIKTOR EROS! Which, really, is what Viktor has wanted since he arrived.

And then our honey smiles, really smiles, for the first time:

“There’s my Yuuri,” he thinks. “He wants me, he’s going to skate for me, and he’s going to win.”

MISSION FRICKIN ACCOMPLISHED YOU CALCULATING, LOVESICK SWEETHEART

* * *

Yeah so, um, I got a bit off track in answering your ask. I think that, during that week, Viktor spent a lot of time:

1\. skating out his feelings

2\. plotting out how he was going to handle this immensely different situation with Yuuri

3\. staring at Yuuri sweat and work out while whispering to himself, “how is he so hot why is he not paying any attention to me”

4\. possibly, luring Yurio over, though I doubt even Viktor is that good

THANKS FOR ASKING, BYE NOW


	73. a fairytale

Once upon a time, there was a boy called Little Rad Tiger Hood. Little Rad Tiger Hood lived in Russia, but one day, he decided to visit his ancient relative, who’d just moved across forests, and rivers, and thousands of acres to a new house.

His grandpa gave him a little basket with pirozhki. Little Rad Tiger Hood knew the ancient old man he was visiting didn’t deserve any pirozhki, so he stuffed all of them in his mouth on the plane.

But when he arrived, looking for that stupid old man, something was wrong. It was hard to tell, but he knew: the person there wasn’t quite Viktor Nikiforov. No matter what he said.

“But Viktor Nikiforov!” Little Rad Tiger Hood pressed, “what big hopes you have.” Hopes for a little piggy that he wishes was a prince, a fairytale inside Little Rad Tiger Hood’s fairytale.

He wants Viktor Nikiforov to come back to the Russian rink, and be the man everyone’s promised Little Rad Tiger Hood he always was.

But Viktor Nikiforov stays with his piggy prince, and Little Rad Tiger Hood goes home. The next time he sees them, the ruse is even less convincing.

“But Viktor Nikiforov! What big obstacles you have.” Little Rad Tiger Hood is one of them. The piggy isn’t going to make it to the top without a fight.

Just because Viktor Nikiforov has already given him everything doesn’t mean the story is over.

One last time, he sees that ancient old man that Little Rad Tiger Hood thought he knew. The one only _pretending_ to be the Living Legend.

“But Viktor Nikiforov!” Kick, kick, kick. Little Rad Tiger Hood won’t tolerate this– he doesn’t understand this– how could that man, that successful man, let someone open the door and _rip him apart_ and _eat him up–_ how could everything be a _lie_? “What a big heart you have.”

Viktor Nikiforov is dead. The person that’s taken his place dresses like him, skates like him.

But the way he loves is not like Viktor Nikiforov, not at all, and maybe that’s for the best.


	74. megamix 2

Yuuri only has two settings for his brain-to-mouth filter:

1\. Top secret. Tell no one. Except maybe a dog. Yes, tell a dog. Implode if revealed to another human

OR

2\. Announce intentions at global press conference

* * *

I need a Victuuri lawyer AU!

Where infamous lawyer Viktor’s favorite thing to do is wear barely-professional, dangerously v-necked dark pink suits into the honorable Judge Yakov’s courtroom!

And where famous lawyer Yuuri’s favorite thing to do to a barrage of press is repeatedly say: "n-no comment"

* * *

Really. Really Nonny. You want me… to write a VICTUURI AU based off of THE SHINING.

In this fic, Viktor and Yuuri go to visit a solitary hotel up in the mountains. “That’s creepy,” says Yurio.

“It’s romantic,” Viktor asserts. The couple gets assigned to room 214. The manager’s acting strange. The hotel is nearly empty, despite it being huge and grand. Yuuri starts having strange dreams, and the one other family in the hotel looks harried.

“You know what Room 214 makes me think of,” says Viktor. “Valentine’s Day. 2/14.” It turns out the strange noises are just the pipes settling. Yuuri stops spending so much time on Insta before he goes to bed, because Viktor cuddles him until they fall asleep, and the dreams stop. Yuuri and Viktor have a lovely day wandering through the gigantic garden maze next to the hotel. One day they see two twin girls in the hall, holding hands, smiles wide.

“Do you want an autograph?” Viktor calls. They smile wider, and come over. With their mother. To get pictures with Yuuri, who they idolize.

THE END.

* * *

Once upon a time, at a press conference long ago, a papparazzo snuck up on a young Viktor Nikiforov, who (unbeknownst to the photographer) was eating chocolate.

He was not supposed to be eating chocolate. Chocolate easily makes the podium of Top Three Things Viktor Shouldn’t Eat Unless He Is Still Wearing A Gold Medal He Just Won.

So Viktor acts quickly, licks the remaining scrap of evidence off his pointer, and turns around with his elegant finger barely retreated to his lips.

“What are you doing, Viktor Nikiforov?” The papparazzo asks.

“Thinking,” is Viktor’s cheerful reply. His eyes sparkle, infinite mysteries in their blue depths. “Thinking very deeply.”

 **POWER POSE** , the headlines scream the next day. The pose sticks, and Yakov is none the wiser.

* * *

Everybody always talks about Viktor’s intense love for scarves but nobody seems to talk about the incredibly related topic of Yuuri’s love for giving hickeys

* * *

YOI is so thorough. If you zoom in on a text convo Leo is having onscreen with Phichit you can clearly an actual, relevant exchange to what’s happening in the episode.

But also, at the top, you can see a hamster video that Phichit sent Leo to watch. Probably of one of his babies. This makes complete sense because 

1\. Phichit is obviously friends with Leo and Guang Hong and would have a text history with either of them

2\. Phichit would totally send videos of his kids out constantly, both over Instagram and text

EVERYTHING IS THOUGHT THROUGH. I feel like some extensively funded productions failed to put this much little detail in.

* * *

I love how bodies in YOI are dynamic in a way most characters’ bodies aren’t– hair grows and is cut, characters are allowed to gain and lose weight. It’s acknowledged that Viktor had a growth spurt after his teenage years, and Yurio fears his own aging and loss of youthful flexibility. 

The fact that all the characters change makes the threat that their bodies will grow old–and they’ll lose the sport they love– ever more powerful and present. The characters of YOI grow. They’re breathtakingly real

Except for the immortal Minako Okukawa, dang it

* * *

Minako Okukawa owns a bar and a barre and I can’t believe I’ve never appreciated this pun before

* * *

“And you’re sure,” Yuuri says slowly, “that this is what is done in Russia.”

“Absolutely.”

Yuuri picks at his costume. “I thought Russians didn’t do much for Christmas the day of?”

“Nothing but Hallochristmas,” Viktor agrees, trying to maintain as flat of a face as possible. “It’s just like Christmas, but Halloween themed, with outfits. Russians love Halloween.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri says seriously, “if NOBODY ELSE at this Christmas party shows up in a…” he fiddles with the bag his costume came from, reads from it, “Slutty Santa costume, something terrible is going to happen to you.”

Viktor looks down at his own Slutty Snowman costume. Then, back up to the tight red fabric and bells that make up Yuuri’s outfit, the tiny velvet cap on his head. Viktor will accept the consequences.

* * *

IT HAPPENS ALWAYS, every competition, some poor skater thinks they’ve managed it, they’ve broken through to Katsuki.

“Let’s go for a late night… skate,” says a competitor at 4CC. “We’ll ride the ice together. All. Night.”

“Sure,” says Yuuri. “I do this all the time.”

“Oh _do_ you,” purrs the competitor, except yes, Yuuri does do this all the time. Four hours later Yuuri is still whizzing around the rink doing triples while the competitor gasps and tries to keep their eyes open.

“Sorry,” says Competitor #2 the next morning, looking sympathetic but also smug. “We tried to warn you.” Competitor #2 is only slightly upset that, at last Worlds, they’d subtly tried to pass a room key into Yuuri’s hand after an hour of (accidentally reciprocated) flirting. Yuuri’s automatic response was to blink, turn, and pass it to the right. 

“For you,” he said, with a small smile. Behind him, the owner

* * *

of the room key could only watch in mute horror.

“For _me_ ,” Competitor #3 whispered. “From Katsuki Yuuri.” 

Yeah, last Worlds had been a disaster of epic proportions.

“Sorry,” says Yuuri, when Competitor #4 swings by his hotel room at the Olympics with a bottle of wine and a very short bathrobe, “you must have the wrong room?”

Every skating competition is a disaster, and not for the reasons Yuuri thinks it is

* * *

Everybody keeps talking about WTTM’s lift, and this is all my brain hears.

“Bro,” says Christophe Giacometti. It’s arms day, they’ve got protein shakes waiting for them, and to answer his best friend Viktor has to set the bar back onto its frame. “Bro, do you think he even lifts? Maybe he’ll let me spot him.” Viktor sits up on the bench, brushes sweaty hair from his face. Follows Christophe’s eyes. “He’s cute.”  
Looking over, Viktor has to agree. Despite the overly large, sweaty shirt and obvious pudge the Japanese man sports on his arms and torso, he is hot. With a shy duck of his head, he passes them and starts adjusting the weight on a nearby bar. Higher. And higher. And HIGHER.   
“Bro,” Viktor whispers. The man’s phone beeps, and he reads with obvious distress. Experimentally, he lifts the bar easily with both hands, and–“BRO,” Viktor whimpers.  
Like a curse, or maybe a gift, he looks right to Viktor with soft brown eyes, comes over.  
“Uhm,” he says, “this is awkward, but… would you spot me?”  
“Only if you lift me,” is Viktor’s suave and completely unintended reply. “Promise? Someday.”  
Cute weightlifter’s jaw drops, faster than a barbell, face going red.  
“Dude,” Christophe sighs, “why couldn’t you just ask him out for smoothies later?”

* * *

Katsuki Yuuri drinks CHAMPagne because he’s a CHAMPion

* * *

I’m a huge fan of secret dating tropes, but honestly I’d find it so hard to believe sometimes for Viktuuri.

Do you think Ring-Flare-I-Tell-Everyone-and-Their-Dog-I-Love-Him Viktor Nikiforov and tie-pulling, Got-My-Gayme-Face-On-At-The-Sight-Of-Him Yuuri Katsuki would be able to have a secret relationship? Naaaaah

* * *

A fan, to Viktor: your so hot  
Viktor: *Yuuri   
Viktor: Yuuri so hot

* * *

Can you imagine how wild Mari Katsuki’s first season impression of figure skating was?  
Tackle kissing! Ring kissing! The Crispino family fracturing before her eyes in the Kiss n Cry! Some Russian guy is literally sobbing while skating. Cute blond kid is throwing things and threatening his fans while dressed like a cat!  
“It’s not always like this,” Minako assures her. “Mostly, your brother and his Russian are stirring things up.”  
“So that Christophe guy doesn’t usually co–”  
“No,” Minako admits, too shameless to blush, “he always does.”  
Mari feels like she should’ve started paying attention to skating sooner.

* * *

Quick HC: the podium family starts watching Miyazaki movies, because they were Yuuri’s childhood and Yurio is not-so-secretly obsessed with them (”THEY’RE FOR KIDS! I don’t even know who Nausicaa of the Valley of the wind, princess and adventurer, is”).

They watch Howl’s Moving Castle, and when they get to the scene where Sophie turns into an old lady overnight:

Yurio and even Yuuri (the cruel, cruel man that Viktor can’t help but love) look over to Viktor. Pointedly. Viktor, with his silver hair and fear of balding, and his joints that crack so often that Yuuri’s taken to kissing them when they do.

“Don’t look at me!” Viktor wails.

* * *

At 25, Viktor turns to Christophe with serious, quiet eyes at the end of another people-filled, lonely night. He says: “I think my Taylor Swift song is Blank Space.”   
He’ll be just what they want. Be that boy, for a month.  
Two years later, Yuuri snorts and brushes the silver fringe from his fiance’s eyes. “Sweetheart, no.”  
“No?”  
“No. Your Taylor Swift song is Love Story.”  
Then they push back the top on Viktor’s convertible and headsmash to Look What You Made Me Do

* * *

“Yuuri,” Viktor says into his ear one morning. His tone is sensual, his eyelashes low over his cheeks, and Yuuri knows he is about to be told Very Important Information, according to Viktor. “Do you know what day it is?”

Faster than he can smash his face into a wall, Yuuri’s brain speeds through the possibilities. It’s March, so it’s not either of their birthdays. It’s not Makkachin’s birthday. It’s not their official engagement anniversary, or their unofficial meeting anniversary (they have both, Viktor’s got them in the calendar decorated with five hearts each). “Is it,” he tries, “a Wednesday?”

“It’s national figure skating coach appreciation day,” Viktor replies seriously. “I just got the email from the ISU. How are we going to celebrate? How shall we… appreciate?”

Yuuri squints at him, disbelieving, but it is seven in the morning and he figures he must have forgotten this holiday. He crawls over the top of his fiance, who grins up at him and nods, pleased. Then, Yuuri swings his feet over onto the floorboards and continues into the kitchen.

“I’m sure we’ll find something to do for Yakov,” he calls.

“YUURI WHY,” says Viktor. He pouts– at least until that afternoon.

“Katsuki told me it was a holiday!” Yurio snaps, and shoves pirozhki into his hands. “This is for Agape. Goodbye.”

Yuuri knows there’s no email from the ISU, but they have a wonderful celebration that evening anyway.

* * *

Heck yeah, Viktor would have that [a cute custom bento box with poodles]! Viktor had that and the first lunchbox that came out with him on it. I don’t think he would’ve had a bento box (That’s mostly in Japan?? Yes??), but young!Viktor had all those other things :)

StillOldbutSlightlyYounger!Yakov had to take him shopping for them.

“This is what you want?” The shopkeeper asks, looking into the gruff face of the man across the tall counter. “Shopping for your grandchild?”

“Son,” Yakov takes to snapping back, because it’s easier to say that to complete strangers than “here is my prodigy skater, Viktor Nikiforov, he’s thirteen and has scraped together the money for this lunchbox from his piggy bank and his earnings from the last national skating competition, where he blew the competition away.” Much simpler. Much cleaner, to say _my son._

Viktor always lingers by the chocolates on shopping trips, a few paces away. He doesn’t look like he’s paying any attention. Sometimes that’s painfully true. Other times, like now, Yakov realizes he’s straining to hear every word.


	75. BEST MOM HIROKO

I really adore the idea of Hiroko managing to get time off and coming to one of Yuuri and Vicchan’s events in season 2.

Just this nondescript, petite, delicious-smelling lady. She has no idea how competitions work. Minako was supposed to come with her and be her guide, but they got separated in the crowd, so now she is calmly trying to tell one of the people guarding the entrance to the skater’s area to give her access.

“My sons are in there,” she explains in her patient English.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” pleads the rink guard, who is having a breakdown over having to do his job rather than give this soft, sweet woman what she wants. Yuuri has Eros, but Hiroko has that Ultimate Mom aura. There are at least two passerby trying to convince him to let Hiroko in.

“Just let her go look for her kids, man.”

“You need a pass to get in this area. If you go talk to one of the managers, I’m sure they’ll page your lost sons for you–”

“Oh, there’s Vicchan!”

The small crowd that has gathered expects to see some lost, unassuming youth. This is not what happens. Instead, charmingly Japanese Hiroko, who on her tiptoes squeaks in at five feet, points directly at five-time champion, six-foot-tall and excruciatingly Russian Viktor Nikiforov. 

“Uh,” is the collective response to this, which basically translates to _what the hell._

But Hiroko and Viktor Nikiforov’s eyes lock. “Mama!” He gasps, brightening, and breaks off from one of Yakov’s long rants to make a beeline to the edge of the section. He is followed, approximately six seconds later, by his also tall, world-record holding fiance, who already has his game face on and is hence TERRIFYING.

“Hi, mom,” Yuuri greets, while Viktor and Hiroko embrace, which involves Viktor essentially bending in half. “Where’s your pass? I know we asked for one for you.”

“I think Minako has it?” Hiroko says with a smile. “This gentleman was about to let me in.”

Both Yuuri and Viktor are already in their skates and skate guards. This adds another intimidating three or four inches and sharp blades to their lithe, muscular forms. They are also fricking NIKIFOROV AND KATSUKI.

“Please take my wallet,” the guard wants to say, but instead wordlessly ushers Katsuki Hiroko into the skater’s area.

Gentle, Best Mom Hiroko spends the rest of the competition wedged between her tall, outwardly intimidating but actually very marshmallow soft sons. IT IS A GOOD DAY

“Usually the kissing in the Kiss and Cry after Katsuki and Nikiforov’s skates is hot hot _HOT_ ,” one of the announcers reveals later. Hiroko kisses Vicchan on the forehead, and pats Yuuri’s hand. “This competition, it’s just heartwarming.”


	76. headcanon: kindness

Something that always hits me is that it’s emphasized, in the first episode, that Viktor is nice to his _fans_. He’s known for this: interacting with them, beaming into cameras, probably trying to inspire and lift up other skaters and kids in general.

When he calls out to Yuuri that first time in Sochi, Viktor is being _nice_. Sure, Yuuri screwed up, but Viktor knows Yuuri admires him and has probably had a rough day on the ice before himself. Maybe Viktor can cheer him up! His offering of a commemorative photo is kindness that doesn’t quite hit the mark. I think this is partly because it’s coming at a bad time…

But it’s also that Viktor Nikiforov is nice to his fans, and Yuuri doesn’t want to just be his _fan_. He wants to be his competitor. He wants to be his _equal_. Viktor tries to be kind to Yuuri as an idol to a fan, and Yuuri outright rejects it.

Yuuri demands, in not so many words, to be seen as a fellow skater. He doesn’t want Viktor to just be _nice_. And Viktor, the instant he arrives in Hasetsu, never makes that particular mistake again.

“I don’t like the way he talks to you, sometimes,” says Mari carefully one day in the early few months. “Very blunt. Rude. I don’t like…”

“I do,” Yuuri interrupts, softly. “Mari. If he didn’t have faith in my abilities as a skater, he wouldn’t bother to say those things. He wouldn’t critique my muscle mass or my form or my jumps if he didn’t care.”

Yuuri asks that Viktor replace being nice with caring, _really caring_ for another human being; and Viktor realizes that’s something he’s wanted for a long time.


	77. prince yuuri, marvelous he

YOU’RE A GENIUS NONNY! THIS IS A PERFECT AU. Here’s my HCs:

–Yurio is the tiger. He is significantly less cuddly to Viktor than Raj is to Jasmine in the original. At least, when they’re around other people. Anytime someone is aggravating Viktor, Yurio the tiger is there, extremely ferocious, BUT IT’S NOT BECAUSE I LIKE HIM AND HE’S MY HUMAN OR ANYTHING.

–Yuuri spends a lot of time trying to hide what he thinks are his rough edges, because here he is, some kid raised in the slums pretending to be a prince and trying to woo VIKTOR NIKIFOROV, actual prince of the land. Viktor likes that he knows his way around markets and alleys. He likes that Yuuri’s not stuffy, and has no idea how much the golden bangles Viktor wears are. When Yuuri appears on his balcony, he’s already trying to take Yuuri’s hand to ELOPE TOGETHER before Yuuri even _mentions_ the words “magic flying carpet.” Yuuri, meanwhile, was so drunk the first time they met and ran through the city market together that he doesn’t realize Viktor already knows he’s been a “street rat.” 

–”A Whole New World” definitely still happens, except after doing quadruple loops through the air on Yuuri’s magic carpet they touch down and Yuuri shows Viktor where to get delicious katsudon. In the process Viktor meets Yuuko, as well as a lot of other common folk. There’s so many people and so much love that later, when Viktor is dropped off at the palace and has to lay back down in his canopy bed, surrounded by cold gold and a lot of servants that refuse to look him in the eye… he cries. “Yuuri,” he whispers into his pillow, “Yuuri, don’t leave again.” 

–Yuuri shows up the next day with swordsmen, dancing girls, twenty golden camels, and a whole parade. “It’s too much,” he hisses to Genie from his throne on an elephant.

“IT’S AMAZING,” Viktor calls from his balcony. “YUURI! I love you!” 

–JJafar is their “evil nemesis,” but at some point it becomes clear that he doesn’t want to take over Agrabah and be its king. He just really, really wants Viktor to pay attention to him, and maybe let JJafar pet his tiger, Yurio, without nearly losing a hand. 

–”Don’t you have any wishes of your own?” Yuuri asks his genie, who beams and pinches his cheek and firmly says:

“To be free, Yuuri– and then I’m going to be the best ice skater Agrabah has ever seen. So I can share my love with everyone!”

“What is ice,” says Yuuri, because they live in a desert. “What is skating?”

“Exactly,” says Phichit the tropical genie.

–”Please give me some of Viktor’s time,” is the first wish Yuuri makes.

At their wedding, Phichit waves happily at him from the front row and Yuuri thinks _genies really can do anything_. Then Viktor takes his hands and lovingly says, “when I first fell in love with you at that marketplace all those years ago…”

* * *

Nonny asked: For the Aladdin AU, is Yuuri's "Alibaba" persona is "Eros"?

YES HE IS

Of course, he feels like the whole thing is massively fake for a while even though he has the whole of Agrabah swooning over him. WANNA HEAR THE PRINCE ALI SONG NONNY??? I was discussing it with Wrath so hear you go:

Prince Yuuri! Marvelous he! Yuuri Katsuki

Thighs strong as ten! Regular men! Naturalllllyyyyy

Oh he’s got seventy-five golden medals! As for butts his is as fine as can beeee


	78. baewatch

Yeah, after that YOI official art with the swimsuits, I’m shocked I haven’t seen a bunch of Baywatch AUs. Imma be real and say I’ve never watched Baywatch but here we go anyway!

–”No, I’m not drowning for YOU,” is a phrase said to both Phichit Chulanont and Michele Crispino on the daily. “Where is the hot Japanese lifeguard? I need to drown in his eyes.” Being Yuuri’s coworker is a thankless job, unless you consider constant viewing access to his six-pack a ‘thank you.’ Many on the Baywatch team do.

–Viktor Nikiforov, being a pale Russian and a movie star, doesn’t spend a lot of time on the public beach. He is dragged there one day by Christophe. Even though it’s Yuuri’s off day and he’s lying on the beach with his twentieth beer and a comforting Phichit, he still hops up and ‘rescues’ Viktor from the shallow water.

“Oh my god,” Viktor breathes, or at least thinks he does, because in actuality it just comes out as a long gay gasp. Yuuri pushes his wet hair back and smirks down at the man in his arms.

“Thought you were having some trouble,” he hiccups seductively.

“I’m in trouble now,” Viktor hyperventilates. From then on, they go to the beach every day. When a flustered Yuuri, upon his thirtieth day of ‘saving’ a drowning Viktor, asks if maybe he needs some swimming lessons… the rest is history.

–Despite giving Viktor swimming lessons every day, Yuuri still ends up talking to him during regular lifeguard working hours. 

“Makkachin can’t swim,” Viktor bemoans. “I was so worried until you SAVED HER.” Yuuri’s _seen_ the poodle doggy paddling happily around the shallows before. He will never tell Viktor this.

–”I’m going to join the Baywatch team!” Announces Sara Crispino. She pulls open a life jacket to reveal her bikini.

“Oh _hell_ no,” says Michele Crispino. Unfortunately, he is not in charge of hiring.

“Nice to have you,” says Mila Babicheva. She spent her younger years training dolphins, and everything about her is gentle and yet exciting. Sara requests being on her guard stand immediately. They have a beach wedding the very next year.

–”Rescue yourself!” Yurio hollers. 

“You can’t say that,” sighs the head lifeguard exasperatedly.

–Seung-Gil is the fiercest sea turtle activist Phichit has ever met. “I would die for the life of a single sea turtle,” he says, tone completely dispassionate. 

“Uh,” says Phichit.“How about we just start a hashtag instead?” When it’s trending and Seung-Gil’s sea turtle foundation has received millions in donations, he stands at the foot of Phichit’s guard stand for thirty minutes. “Can I help you?” Phichit calls cheerily.

“Yes,” Seung-Gil says, “come kiss me.”

“You’re supposed to say you need mouth to mouth resuscitation,” Phichit complains. He climbs down anyway. 

–Later, Viktor and Yuuri spend a lot of time walking along the beach at twilight, holding hands quietly and listening to the gulls.

“You saved me, you know,” Viktor tells him quietly, as the sun sinks into the waves. “I was drowning and lost and you saved me.” Mere months ago, Yuuri would have assumed Viktor just meant saving him from the water.

“That’s my job,” he replies instead, and pulls Viktor down to lie beneath him in the sand, kisses him. “I do love my job. But you saved me too.”


	79. overboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nonny: If you're still doing the headcanon hour, an Overboard AU? Victor falls overboard and loses his memory and Yuuri ends up taking him home where he lives with his adoptive kids Yurio and Minami and maybe some other characters omg maybe the triplets???

–Viktor Nikiforov has got it all: wealth, looks, and an equally wealthy and beautiful husband in JJ Leroy– who, as we all know, was an arranged marriage to help their companies prosper. Viktor, despite feeling _extremely_ lukewarm (”What does your husband’s name stand for?” Chris asks. Viktor replies: “JJ isn’t his actual name?!”) about JJ Leroy, decides they’re going to take his yacht out on a vacation to try and create some kind of spark between them. He’s not going to live his whole life without love, after all! Then Katsuki Yuuri arrives on the scene, toolbelt in hand.

“Okay,” the carpenter says, glasses low on his nose as he bites his lip and taps his pen lightly against a clipboard, “your cabinets on the yacht are ready for sailing.”

“Great,” says Viktor, and rolls on his chaise over to sun his other side. Yuuri raises the clipboard a bit higher, as the Nikiforov heir is in the nude. 

“Yes. Would you like to see the carving in the oak?” Viktor sits up, and Yuuri squeaks.

“Oak? I thought I said cedar? I did remember to tell you cedar, I think…” He stands, approaches swiftly as Yuuri stumbles back. “No no no, this won’t do, I really like cedar. However will I convince you to…” Viktor is talking to air. He’s backed Yuuri off the side of the boat, tool belt and all. “You can swim, right?” He calls.

“What is _wrong_ with you?”

–One evening, a massive wave crashes against the ship, and Viktor goes overboard. JJ is too busy listening to his theme song to notice. When he wakes up… Viktor Nikiforov doesn’t exist. 

“It’s going to be okay,” mutters Yuuri, beside his hospital bed. When the silver-haired man holds out his hand, Yuuri automatically takes it.

“He has amnesia. We don’t know who he is,” says the nurse, “but he had your soggy business card.” The amnesiac takes one look at Yuuri, who had been summoned right from the woodworking shop and is clothed only in dusty jeans and a tight tank, whose grip on his hand is gentle. Yuuri’s eyes, earthy warm, have his heart clenching.

“This is my husband,” the silver-haired man says sweetly. “Aren’t you?”

–He ends up at Yuuri’s home. Viktor Nikiforov would have fainted at the sight of it, with its cheap tile and Yuuri’s creaky single bed. But “Vicchan,” as Yuuri has dubbed him, is perfectly content with it. “Amazing!” He nods at the bed. “Great for cuddling!”

“No time for cuddling,” Yuuri blurts, face going red. “I have to work. And somehow, I have to feed the kids.”

Vicchan didn’t know he had _kids_. But there they are– blonde haired and scowling, brown haired and determined, and three chubby little girls.

“I’m gonna make you miserable,” says the blonde one tartly.

“I bet I can cook,” says Vicchan, and totters towards the stove. Vicchan can’t really cook. But Yuuri teaches him– Yuuri’s going to teach him many things.

“We like him,” the triplets whisper to Yuuri after dinner. “Don’t tell him he’s not our other dad, okay?” Yuuri reasons that it can’t hurt to go along with it for another night.

“Another night” turns into a few weeks, between Yuuri’s stuttering and Vicchan’s tendency to brush things off.

–JJ arrives, nearly three months later. There is a black-haired woman on his arm, looking apologetic but determined. At the sight of JJ on Vicchan’s doorstep, something in Vicchan clicks. He remembers being Viktor Nikiforov, long days without life or love, remembers boredom and loneliness and wondering why nothing in his existence felt right.

“Uh,” JJ squirms. “My parents said I had to come check on you once they found you. But! Uh. I’ve kind of? Fallen in love with Isabella. Please don’t be too heartbroken!”

“I no longer have amnesia,” Viktor says, “but I still don’t really know or care about who you are?” He shuts the oak front door. Viktor would’ve slammed it, but it was made with devotion and care by the talented hands of Katsuki Yuuri, who he loves.

“Who was that?” Yuuri asks, when Viktor returns to the dining table. Vicchan cooked the meal that Yurio is now shoving into his face. There are pictures of him and Yuuri and _their_ kids, now, littering the house.

“My ex-husband,” Viktor says calmly, and takes a bite of the borchst. Yuuri chokes. “Don’t worry. I told him that the best place in the world was here with you.”


	80. best youtuber Phichit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canonverse: Phichit being the BEST YouTuber alright the best

WHO ARE VIKTOR AND YUURI DON’T KNOW DON’T CARE, PHICHIT IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE.

I’m kidding, cause obviously Victuuri is my life, but yeah, Phichit is the best. For headcanon happy hour.

–Phichit starts off very young. Ironically, this is also when he’s at his most professional. His first videos are mostly Junior competitions. He posts one (just one!) video of him with a hamster on the ice, in a homemade padded hamster ball, and the small taste of sweet internet fame it provides is enough to push Phichit into becoming a professional YouTuber.

–Phichit has a whole series called “But In Thailand We…” and it’s basically Phichit attempting something that went terribly wrong for another poor Youtuber and instead ROCKING it. “They do this,” he says, gesturing to some poor idiot who’s trying to learn how to breathe fire but instead just demonstrates how to catch nearby shrubbery on fire. “But in Thailand we…” Phichit lights up the sky with a column of FIRE! It’s grace, it’s beauty, Phichit is a miracle-worker. He is the perfect son of Thailand.

Celestino unfortunately finds out about this series and shuts it down before Phichit winds up in the hospital… well, more accurately, after Phichit ends up in the hospital once.

–”Please go with me to this pole dancing class,” Yuuri whispers, because OH he desperately wants to learn because _everybody loves pole dancers Phichit can you imagine maybe someone will look at me once with lust in their eyes…_

“Why,” Phichit says, “when there are youtube tutorials?” Except he looks… and there are none that are satisfactory. “THE WORLD IS DEPRIVED,” Phichit declares. He goes to the pole dancing class. Much to Yuuri’s embarrassment, he tapes the pole dancing class. “I am an international hero,” Phichit announces when the video drops, with his and Yuuri’s faces barely blurred out. At least one comment agrees with him. _HOT BUTTS_ , is essentially what the other million comments say.

–Phichit has an advice vlog. He has a makeup vlog. He has a cooking vlog. This means that some days Yuuri walks into the kitchen only to find the camera rolling, something purple boiling a pot on the stove, and Phichit assuring some woman that she is “very lovable, Karen, don’t undervalue yourself. I have a friend that does that, and he’s always wrong.” Phichit can put on eyeliner _one handed_. Sometimes, Yuuri is terrified of him. Sometimes is always, actually.

–Phichit has an entire video series called “He’s Not My Boyfriend Please Stop Asking.” It’s a compilation of Katsuki Yuuri, and half the videos are him eating while making unholy noises. The other half are him ignoring hot, half-naked people swarming him as he and Phichit explore the streets. “Katsuki Yuuri doesn’t notice when everyone else is chasing tail,” Phichit sighs.

Yuuri stops walking. “Is that a dog??” Phichit squints. There is maybe– MAYBE– something, hanging out of an alley twenty feet away, that resembles a dog tail. Adjusting his glasses intently, Yuuri speeds by two flexing men and a woman who is clearly running only for Yuuri’s benefit. “Phichit!” He calls delightedly, “it is! Come videotape it!”

“Katsuki Yuuri sure can chase some tail, though…dog tail.”


	81. PoL snippets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonny said: I don't know if you take requests for drabbles/ficlets, but I'm hurting so much from Ch. 5 of Power of Love (but in a good way!) I was wondering if you could do a quick happy Victuuri thing in that universe? Only if there's a way that could be spoiler-free of course

Hello! I do actually take requests for those, but you also came in the middle of Headcanon Happy Hour, so you are more than welcome to ask for this :) That being said, I’m gonna have to be a bit vague so I don’t spoil things for the fic! I’M SORRY I HURT YOU BUT ALSO THAT’S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR. Have a fluffy scene under the cut from after the happy ending of PoL! If you think this is sappy, you should see what I have planned for the actual fic.

Viktor, having had long hair himself for years, is surprisingly even more knowledgeable than Yuuri about its care. In the evenings, he assembles his tools and beckons Yuuri between his legs on the couch. Yuuri pats the space between his own legs once he’s settled, and Makkachin bounds up on the couch too, eager. 

“You’ve been neglecting it,” Viktor scolds gently the first time, and bounces his knees against Yuuri’s thighs. 

“I guess I’ve had my mind on other things at night,” Yuuri replied, patting his knee until it settles, “besides my hair.”

“Mm,” Viktor hums in reply, and runs his fingers against Yuuri’s scalp. This is how it starts– just fingertips, dancing through strands, as though Viktor doesn’t have three combs and several tubes of hair products at his elbow.

Whining, Makkachin nudges Yuuri’s hand. It’s fallen into slow, lazy brushes at her curls, so Yuuri tries to refocus. Then, Viktor sweeps his hair aside and presses a kiss to his neck. The battle for focus is lost. Delighted, Viktor smiles against his skin, giddy in victory. With a sigh Yuuri leans back, and the dancing fingers run through his hair one last time before splaying over his stomach.

“Do you miss doing this with Yuuko?”

It’s amazing, how lightly Viktor can say her name. It’s amazing, how Yuuri had never noticed the way Viktor’s voice tightened and strained around it before.

“Yes,” Yuuri replies, honestly. “It was routine for us, since I was… thirteen? My hair was barely to my shoulders, then.”

“I can’t believe I had to wait till you were _twenty_ to know you,” Viktor huffs, but there’s little humor in it. “It’s not fair.”

Yuuri twists in his arms, kisses him before settling back again. “When I was younger I thought I’d be eighty and still on the ice, trying to catch your eye.”

“Still trying to achieve that quadruple axel,” Viktor breathes into his bare shoulder-blade, a vibration. Yuuri has to chuckle at the words, squirm happily at the feeling.

“Fake teeth falling out when I spun–”

“ _Yuuri_!” Viktor bursts in laughter, “Yuuri, Yuuri, my poor Yuuri…” Each mention of his name a shaking peck on the knob of his spine.

Sometimes, no matter how long he’s known Viktor, he’s still shy. “Wanted you for so long,” he whispers. There’s a pause, a tightening of the arms around his waist.

“I know that now,” Viktor murmurs quietly. “I know.”

They’re in love. Years and years of wanting, and now they’re brushing each others hair and shrieking with laughter on the couch, like a dream Yuuri had once and clutched his chest over in the morning. So many years, and here they are. In love.


	82. flowerboy next door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if you're still doing HHC but if you are how about an AU based on the kdrama "Flowerboy next door"? (The story is about a girl suffering from bad social anxiety and everyday she uses binoculars to sneak peek at her handsome rich neighbour in the apartment building across hers, until one day the guy's cousin shows up and catches her. They try to help her get over her fears and start writing messages that they hold up against the windows to communicate)

I am doing HHC! Or I was at the time. Sorry I took so long to get back to you. I’ve never watched “flowerboy next door” but it sounds super cute! TOP NOTCH VICTUURI AU RIGHT THERE. Forgive me if I don’t match the show well.

–Yuuri never _intended_ to be that creepy person, spying on his neighbor in his apartment… the binoculars were supposed to be for dogs! Really! 

“I don’t believe you,” says the blonde teen. He was only in Viktor’s apartment for five minutes before swinging his gaze over to meet Yuuri’s through the binoculars. Yuuri’s been looking at Viktor for _weeks_ and he’s never noticed. “What do you want of Viktor’s? His vault code? Gossip you can give to the paparazzi?” He stalks in past the line of Yuuri’s door, shoving at his taller frame. “Show me the pictures. Show me where you keep everything, and I’m gonna throw it out the window.”

Yuuri has only allowed himself to have one picture. It’s one he got innocently, Viktor stopped for a conversation with the doorman on the street– it was too tempting. The picture is framed beside Yuuri’s bed, even though it’s blurry.

“…oh,” says the blonde teen when he finds it, and he looks at Yuuri with scathing pity. “Seriously?”

–They start putting up messages in the window, at Yurio’s insistence. “You’ve liked him for this long and you’ve never gone and, I don’t know, _said hello?!_ He’s an idiot! He’s not intimidating!” Yuuri starts with short messages, simple messages. _HELLO_ and _GOOD MORNING_. Viktor doesn’t notice.

 _UR AN IDIOT_ , Yuri scrawls on one, adding on a drawing of a poodle. Within five minutes of him slapping it up against the window, Viktor’s responded.

_HI YURA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?_

Yuuri responds to the next few messages, after Yurio jams a marker into his quaking hands. He hides his face behind each wobbling piece of paper, and Viktor always sweetly tapes the next message to his window before spending time in another room of his apartment.

–Yuuri wakes up one day, hangover very present, and finds he’s written all over his window in thick dry erase marker. He reads one line– _YOU ARE MY INSPIRATION YOU SEXY–_ and screams all the way to his closet, where he keeps his cleaning supplies.

The messages are actually not dry erase marker. They are Sharpie.

There’s a sign on Viktor’s window. _I WANT TO MEET YOU! YOU SOUND SO CUTE._

Yuuri shuts his blinds on the window for the first time since he’s moved in.

–Some days, Yuuri’s social anxiety is so bad that he can’t even leave the house. Yurio calls, asks _are you up for company?_ There’s a gentle knock, twenty minutes later, and Yuuri wraps himself up in a blanket before opening the door.

Viktor’s there. “I begged Yurio to let me come in his place,” he says apologetically. “…I brought popcorn?” Yuuri’s instincts are screaming not to let him in. But this is Viktor– Viktor who draws stupid things and leaves them on his window for Yuuri, who tapes up posters of himself and asks for opinions. Viktor, who Yuuri loves.

Yuuri lets him in. 

There’s something quite different about watching Viktor, watching him live the perfect life from across two panes of glass and the gap between their buildings, and _seeing_ Viktor. _Being_ with Viktor. He’s sweet and non-judgmental and laughs with his mouth open, even when it’s got popcorn in it. Slowly, the tight constriction of worry in Yuuri’s chest lets up.

“Would you mind,” Viktor says quietly, “if I came over again? Maybe… bring Makkachin with me?” Yuuri blinks. “It gets lonely at the apartment all by myself,” is the startling explanation he gives.

Yuuri’s never seen Viktor have friends over, except for one party and one blonde man who drops by every once in a while. Suddenly, things start to click.

 _“_ I’d like that.” He chews at his lip, thoughtful. “…but we’ll still do messages?”

–The first time Viktor stays over, Yuuri wanders in a sleepy haze, stares out of habit over into Viktor’s window. There’s a message.

_BE MY BOYFRIEND?_

_“_ When did you put that up?” He calls, laughing. Viktor stops stirring the pan of eggs.

“Made it a month ago,” Viktor says, “put it up before I came over last night. I assumed you already saw? I thought that’s why you–” Yuuri slaps a playful hand over his mouth.

“Viktor! Bedroom things don’t come into the kitchen.”

“Oh, solnyshko, I know you’ve only just started to experience the world and get out there… but I need show you how very wrong you are.”

Bedroom things _absolutely_ come into the kitchen, Yuuri learns.


	83. headcanon: Viktor backstory and the time of pettiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor backstory headcanon: when did he first start deploying those fake smiles when he's angry? Or: he said Yakov is the best coach he ever had; was he kidding because Yakov's been his only coach, or did he break it off with a coach before Yakov? Or: how did he feel earlier in his career when people chalked up his wins to his looks?

WOW YES OKAY ALL THESE ARE GREAT. For Headcanon Happy Hour!

–”There is a rumour going around,” Yakov says, rubbing tiredly at his forehead, “that you are only winning because you’re considered… attractive, Vitya.”

“Interesting,” says Viktor. His next costume can only be described as a neon throw-up green, which he pairs with gaudy fake diamonds, a feather boa, and not two, not three, but _five_ ponytails. “Mila,” he says thirty minutes before his skate, “come here and help me with my makeup.” Mila is seven. Mila treats eyeliner like a crayon.

“Breathtaking, inspiring, complex,” raves one judge after his skate. “And… displeasing to the eye?” Viktor still wins in a landslide, and returns to being the physical embodiment of the word “angelic” for his next competition.

– The fake fury smiles have very little to do with his skating career, actually. Those started long before Viktor was fifteen and on top of the world. 

–Viktor does have a coach before Yakov. Two, actually. The first is a brilliant French skater who dominated the 1940′s. She teaches him adoration for the ice, and for beauty, and French, but at seven years old she also teaches him the concept of death and loss of someone you love. His next coach is less ideal, and far more brutal with his time and training. “I don’t care if you like the program, Nikiforov,” he tells him. “As long as you can skate it. Now do something about your hair.”

–Yakov Feltsman finds him at a competition, stubbornly crouched in a back hallway after his free skate, a refusal to go to the Kiss and Cry.

“Let me take you to your coach,” Yakov says. That receives an emphatic _never_. “Let me take you to your parents.” There is nothing emphatic about the response to that. “…Let me be your coach.” Viktor stands up. “In return,” Yakov says, “you will listen to me, like you do not listen to him. Or I will no longer coach you.”

“Yes,” says an eleven-year-old Viktor, head bowed. He means it, with all his heart and his bloodied feet. He means it sincerely until he’s fourteen, and Yakov is screaming _what have I said about quads at your age, Vitya._ Viktor quickly discovers that when Yakov said “listen or I will no longer coach you,” it was not meant sincerely at all. Thus begins the era that costs Yakov his hair.


	84. one-sided mutual pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonny said: the other day I was reading this story about people who lived in Japan and ended up accidentally dating Japanese ppl. like, this foreign guy wanted advice on how to gently let down a Japanese guy. because this J guy? thought they'd been dating for WEEKS. and F guy is like BUT HOW and J guy is, well we've been doing couple things, that means we're a couple??? and F guy is I THOUGHT WE WERE HANGING OUT NOT DATING. So. Victuuri AU where Viktor hasn't confessed yet... to his steady boyfriend, Yuuri.

Hoo boy. I think it’s really hard to distinguish, even within the same culture, exactly how to meander through relationship stuff. ANYWAY have some one-sided pining (for once it’s not mutual, cause one person is done pining!) for headcanon happy hour.

–”Help, Christophe,” Viktor whispers into the phone desperately, “I-I’m at a karaoke bar with that cute guy I danced with last week. _I need him to be my husb-”_

_“_ Okay, whoa there,” says Christophe. “You met him last week. You have only been taking a break in Japan for a month.”

“I need him to be my boyfriend,” Viktor forlornly corrects. He just has to figure out how to do it. 

“Can’t believe you exist,” Yuuri slurs, bursting in and slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Can’t believe you asked me out to _karaoke_.” His eyes shine. Viktor has never seen much attraction in karaoke, but his heart is singing now.

–After two months of dinner and lunch and Viktor texting Breathtaking Future Husband (BFH) every hour, Yuuri pauses the movie on Viktor’s bigscreen and lightly says, “do you want to go to a festival together?”

They coordinate their outfits. Yuuri wins him a big stuffed poodle at a booth, and thumbs gently at dessert that’s stuck on Viktor’s cheek. Yuuri is the best friend Viktor has ever had. He wants to lie giggling over nothing on his living room floor together, while simultaneously needing to toss Yuuri into his bed to do unspeakable things with him until they both cry. 

Yuuri, sweet Yuuri, doesn’t seem at all troubled by these thoughts.

–Viktor wishes he could hide his trembling fingers, but it’s so hard when they’re laced with Yuuri’s. Tonight is the night. There are reservations at a beautiful restaurant with a fountain out front, and Viktor will ask Yuuri to officially be his boyfriend and go on dates with him. Maybe, if he’s very lucky, he’ll get a kiss on the cheek, and. And…

“Yuuri,” he blurts, and pulls him over to sit on the fountain. “I’ve been thinking…”

His beloved looks down at his watch. Viktor’s heart only breaks in half. “Our reservations were for five minutes ago, right? Shouldn’t we–”

“Yuuri, please be my boyfriend!” Yuuri blinks at him, bottom lip trembling. The misty look in his eye has nothing to do with the cheerful tinkling of the fountain in the background.

“Are… are we not already boyfriends?” Viktor has been catapulted to heaven. Yuuri’s spirits seem to fall, though–he yanks his hand from Viktor’s, face crumpling. “Oh. Oh no. Things were different in America but this is Japan and I– you must think I’m desperate and overeager.” Viktor has no idea what to say. He has no idea how he’s this _lucky_.

“I call you Future Husband in my head!” Viktor blurts. “I– I bought wedding rings? Maybe… a week after we met?”

Yuuri’s jaw drops. “You’re… you’re kind of…”

“Desperate and overeager?” Maybe Viktor should throw himself into the fountain. He is desperate. He’s foolish. Foolish Viktor. Except then:

“What are we going to do with four wedding rings,” Yuuri mutters. The fountain water is freezing. They kiss in it for twenty minutes anyway.


	85. let me in

OH MAN. Frozen AU headcanons for headcanon happy hour! The Frozen characters don’t match up nicely to YOI, so… have this remix. Also, kids, they are NOT siblings in this one.

–Viktor and Yuuri are best friends as children, even if Viktor is the true prince of the land and Yuuri is just visiting– after Rapunzel is kidnapped, his parents immediately ship him and Mari off to other countries, more armed countries. So it’s Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor and Yuuri making snowpeople. Viktor teaching young Yuuri how to skate. Viktor and Yuuri holding hands as they dance through the ballrooms, giggling, in the middle of the night. 

One morning Yuuri wakes up, though, and it’s like everything has changed. He focuses desperately on what might have happened… but can’t remember. “Go away, Yuuri,” Viktor says softly through the door. “Okay,” Yuuri chokes out. Ten years later, Viktor still doesn’t want to talk to him. Yuuri still loves him. He doesn’t knock anymore, just stands there and thinks he’s foolish for imagining that Viktor might tread over his shadow, the only part of Yuuri allowed in Viktor’s room.

–Viktor’s parents die when he’s twenty-two. “You don’t have to be strong,” Yuuri whispers into the wood of his door. “You don’t have to be anything that’s not you, just _please_ , Viktor.” Viktor’s heart feels like it might burst. The ice bursts from his feet first, though, and all he can do is stand and stare at the door, wish he could sit with Yuuri’s shadow.

–”Worst surprise ever,” Duke JJ declares as Viktor flees his party, icy spikes climbing up the wall. All Yuuri can do is stare after him.

–Princess Chihoko appears, kisses the back of Yuuri’s hand and says, “love is an open door.” Yuuri blinks at her, takes back his hand. “Love is a pork cutlet bowl,” he declares flatly. Princess Chihoko promptly disappears from the story.

–”Puma tiger scorpions are better than people,” Yurio sings. “Oh my god, you poor weirdo, what are you wearing in this freezing weather?” 

“Take me to the mountain in your sleigh,”Yuuri huffs, to which Yurio mutters _its name is quad salchow, “_ and I’ll trade you something!” This is how Yurio gets dragged into the adventure of a lifetime. He might fall a TINY bit in love with Prince Katsuki, but it’s pretty hard to compete when your romantic rival can conjure bouquets of ice flowers and literally _create life_. 

“MAKKAOLAF?!” He screeches. “Really?! That’s your name? That’s not a name!” Yuuri tries to snort quietly, and fails. “My reindeer’s name is Potya, not Puma Tiger Scorpion, you jerk!”

–Yakov is a troll. “They’re getting married!” Declares Georgi troll. He starts fashioning a marriage arch.

“Nobody is getting married!” Yakov booms.

“Also, I kind of… have someone else in mind,” Yuuri squeaks.

–Yuuri sacrifices himself for Viktor, when Duke JJ (”It’s King JJ!” says JJ, but he’s just a duke.) thinks the only way to save a bunch of people’s lives is to swing a sword at Viktor.

It’s not a kiss, or the offer of his own time in exchange for Yuuri’s time, that revives Yuuri. It’s just love.

“M-my gloves,” Viktor whimpers, when Yuuri takes his hand, laces their fingers together. He’s a monster, an ice monster, that’s what he was born as except he wants to be able to _feel_. Yuuri has never cared, will never care about what anyone else thinks of him, of his powers. Yuuri just loves him. Viktor’s heart is warm. Suddenly, so is everything else.


	86. JHO HCs

*scrambles and smacks self* HOLY I DIDN’T REALIZE ANYBODY WOULD ASK FOR HCs about my verses! I can do this. Probably a **spoiler alert** for JHO.

–Viktor and Yuri’s relationship is a lot better, I’d like to imagine, in JHO. Even if it’s better, Friday mornings during training occasionally have this conversation:

“I’m going to ask him to play video games and make pirozhki, and you can watch, you Yuuri-hogging bastard.”

“Unfortunately, Yurio, he’s mine tonight,” Viktor counters. “The reservations are made and I’ll surprise him. Video games and food are closely matched, but with me included…” The battle is fierce! The winner could be anyone! 

“Have fun with Yura tonight,” Yuuri says, kissing his cheek. “Madame Baranovskaya is taking me to see the Bolshoi Ballet.”

(The winner is always Lilia.)

–Yuuri and Yuri get assigned to one qualifier together, and Yuuri and Viktor get none. After they get their assignments, Yuuri finds his fiance on the couch, typing away on his laptop. Yuuri pads over and nips his earlobe, only to whisper afterwards, “you can’t bribe or blackmail the ISU to put us together.”

“YUURI!” Viktor complains. Yuri, on the other hand, is immensely pleased, and there is not a picture at the Trophee de France where Yuuri and Yuri are apart. _Especially_ not on the podium, where Yuuri stands above him.

–The press has been more privy to their relationship in JHO, and they start getting put in advertisements together. Who knew that people liked watching Viktor Nikiforov pour sports drinks over a shirtless Katsuki Yuuri?

–As far as Yakov knows, Yuuri and Viktor have been together for… a year, by the time next season’s training rolls around. Unfortunately, what Yakov doesn’t know is that they’ve overcome a huge misunderstanding to become the extreme dorks in love that we’ve witnessed in canon. Viktor uses a thinly veiled excuse for a theme that may as well be called “I Love Katsuki Yuuri.” If you think that canon Viktor is affectionate, you’d be right. Now imagine JHO Viktor, who thinks he’s got a year of insecurity and confusion on Yuuri’s part to “make up for.” So Yakov is watching this engaged couple, who at least during last season’s training were desperately cuddly and more demure and inexplicably watery-eyed… and seeing them become ridiculous.

“Vitya,” Yakov says, when he catches Viktor _singing_ while he moves in giddy circles over the ice ten feet from Yuuri, not a week after he catches them pair skating during practice. “Come here.” Viktor glides over without complaint, smiles prettily at him. “…is there anything you want to tell me?” A tilt and brief shake of the silver head. “You would _tell_ me if you and Katsuki got married, would you not?”

“Yakov thinks you’re honeymooning,” Mila translates from the bench. Viktor’s eyes light up, sparkling blue.

“Oh,” says Yakov. He realizes the answer to his question is _no,_ but he’s planted an idea he doesn’t like at all. “Vitya, please wait until after competition season to get married. Vitya–”


End file.
